The Cruel Irony
by RonaldAndMione
Summary: Hermione is being forced to play a game she doesn't want to play, and the only way to win is to do the unthinkable - kill. Bit of a mash-up of Hunger Games/Harry Potter, but I didn't think it was enough to be a crossover. Let me know if you disagree.
1. A Name Is Picked

_Why hello there! (:_

_No, I haven't died. I've been working on this story. I got this idea in March when I was scrolling through tumblr and found an amazing post by fleurtings - /post/18038976475 . It was basically a crossover of Harry Potter and Hunger Games, and it completely mesmerised me, particularly the last gif - my Romione shipping heart couldn't stop thinking about it. I was so hooked that I decided I had to write a fanfiction on it. Originally, I was only going to write a oneshot focusing on the last gif, but then I decided, why not write an official novel on fanfiction? I ought to do it sometime. So, basically, I've been writing the first few chapters of this story, and I'm really excited with it._

_I suppose this story is a bit of a crossover, but I've marked it as a normal because the characters don't cross over. It's basically the Harry Potter world being put into a Hunger Games-style situation, so I decided to leave it as a simple Harry Potter story. If too many people disagree with this, I can change it, but for now, I suppose I'll leave it like this. _

_I've gained a beta for this story, one of my friends, Sophie, who is actually one of the most wonderful betas ever. Thanks to her, my story will not be completely awful. I've been writing a few chapters ahead, making sure that I can put them up promptly, but she's the one who's been pushing me to start posting, or, according to her, all of you will think I have died or something.. So, if you don't like this story, you can blame her for making me post it. _

_And, also, Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's and The Hunger Games was thought of by Suzanne Collins. I do not own anything._

_Anyway, I'm pretty sure no one has bothered to read this note, it's that long. Ah, well. I've said everything I need to say. Here's the story 'The Cruel Irony.' Hope you like it. (:_

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 1: A Name is Picked_

Our story begins on a lovely, sunny day in District 3 of Panem. It was with happiness that Hermione made her way to Bogs' Books and Related Products. This was because Hermione loved her job there. She loved the ability to organise and sort out the books in stock, the ability to calculate and analyse sales, and the ability to read the books in her spare time. It was a delightful thing to immerse herself in.

She opened the door to the shop and smiled at the kindly old man at the teller. Mr. Bogs, who seemed to not have a first name as he insisted everyone call him Mr. Bogs, smiled at her through his spectacles. Hermione's smile widened as the door closed behind her and the light toll of a bell rang through the small store, reminding her of yet another reason why she loved it. This was the only place in all of District 3 to still have a door with a knob rather than a button, the only place that still had a bell to alert the owner of a prospective customer. It was remarkably old-fashioned, and Hermione adored it.

"Hello, Hermione," Mr. Bogs said, in his usual quiet rumble. "I trust school went well?"

"As usual." Hermione replied, and placed her schoolbag carefully on a chair in the sitting area. It landed with a thud.

"Dear Merlin," Mr. Bogs said. "I would've thought you'd be exhausted by books after seeing them all the time."

Hermione chuckled."Mr. Bogs, you know that's not possible." It was quite interesting working for Mr. Bogs. He was about 80 years old, and so had been alive during the rebellion. His parents having died during it, he had to step in and take care of his younger brother and sister. But he had been raised learning magic and magical expressions, and so knew a lot about spells and potions that were no longer allowed in Panem, and often muttered, "Dear Merlin." Hermione, having worked with Mr. Bogs for a long time, also began to use that phrase.

"Any customers today?" Hermione asked, already half-knowing what the answer would be.

"Only one, I'm afraid." He said, sounding a little disappointed. "But it could change now that you're here."

_As if I can attract customers; I have no friends besides a bookstore owner and my parents_, Hermione thought dubiously.

But she put on a smile and said, "Anything's possible."

Hermione had a feeling the problem with Mr. Bogs' recent lack of success was that District 3 was becoming too technology oriented. No longer did they use books, now that they had almost-magical computers that could do anything. No longer did they care for antique buildings with bells and doors with knobs. Hermione, however, was no ordinary District 3 citizen, and on the contrary loved this store because of its old-fashioned appearance. She'd never suggest that Mr. Bogs change it, and she was certain that Mr. Bogs would never agree to it. It was one of the reasons they got along so well – they were both very similar people.

To occupy herself, Hermione grabbed a book from the shelf and sat down to read.

"Oh, hold on a moment, Hermione." Mr. Bogs said, coming over to her in his usual, slow pace, clearly holding something behind his back. "I've got another book that I found in my attic which I think you may find interesting."

Hermione quickly sat up straight, the familiar sensation of curiosity taking over her. "Really?" she asked, brown eyes gleaming. "What is–?"

Mr. Bogs revealed what he'd been hiding behind his back, and Hermione gasped. "_Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_!"

Mr. Bogs had first found _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ in his possession several months ago, and had loaned it to Hermione. Magical books had been banned after the rebellion, but Mr. Bogs had somehow managed to keep his. Hermione had a feeling that he'd hid them somewhere, but she certainly wasn't going ask him. After finding Grade 2, he eventually found _Grade 4_ and _Grade 7_. Hermione privately read them in her room, sometimes going as far as using a mechanical pencil as a wand to practice the correct movement. She would discuss these spells with Mr. Bogs once she finished reading them. Hermione knew she'd never be able to use magic, but it was still fun learning about it.

"Mr. Bogs," Hermione began, regarding him thoughtfully. "Were you good at magic?"

Mr. Bogs smiled at her. "I was wonderful." He said softly, chuckling. "I'm glad that when the rebellion occurred, I was 18, and had already learnt most of what there is to know about magic."

"Most?"

He stared down at her through his small spectacles. "One cannot possibly know everything about magic."

Hermione loved the way Mr. Bogs spoke of everything as if it was an awe-inspiring thing. "Was it difficult, having to adjust to no magic?"

"Oh, of course." he replied, nodding vehemently. "But it was worse for the children, who had no control over their magic. It was horrible. Sometimes bursts of magic would appear in them, and Peacekeepers would whip them on the street. Poor children... no control whatsoever. It was why parents began taking children to school at 11, so that the children could be able to learn control at home, and be sufficient at it by that age."

Hermione hated the Capitol. She truly did.

By the end of her shift, only five more people had entered the store, and only two had bought a book. Bogs' Books and Related Products was very quickly going out of business, but for some reason, after reading Grade 6, Hermione felt a bit more optimistic.

* * *

Finally, after two hours, the silence in the small room was broken by a yawn, signifying that it was time for Hermione to go to sleep. She sat up a little straighter on her bed, her back no longer touching the wall behind her, and bent her neck back slightly. She sighed as it cracked and wearily placed her now-closed book on the table beside her.

There was a light tapping on her open door, and Hermione turned to look at her mother. She smiled as the tall, graceful woman entered her bedroom.

"You all set for bed, Hermione?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm about to go to sleep."

"Did you brush your teeth?" her mother asked.

"Of course, Mum." She replied, smiling at her mother and showing off pearl-white teeth. "You've taught me well."

Hermione's mother chuckled and lovingly stroked her daughter's bushy, brown, uncontrollable hair."Enough reading, love. It's time to sleep."

"I lost track of time, Mum. I'm sorry."

"I see it's a good book, then. I'm glad the extra money Mr. Bogs gave you wasn't wasted." Hermione nodded in agreement. The ability to afford any luxuries was rare in District 3 of Panem, but fortunately, Hermione's parents were one of the few people working in developing new technology in the medical field, which meant they were rewarded with a bit more money than the average District 3 citizen. It wasn't enough for them to be completely secure, but sometimes they could afford to buy something special. Hermione made sure that most of the money she earned from working for Mr. Bogs was given to her parents, but they insisted that she keep the extra money she earned.

"I don't see why people don't enjoy reading," Hermione commented. Her mother smiled, knowing her daughter's obsession with books was not a common one in this district.

"You know this district is more interested in technology," she said. "Not only that, but they aren't as lucky as us – they can't afford to waste any money." Before Hermione could get too sad and riled up about the Capitol's evil ways, her mother smoothed her hair down once more and kissed her forehead. "Sleep, Hermione. You've got a big day tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, and crept under the covers of her bed. Her mother switched the lights off and the room was suddenly filled with darkness, the only source of light being the streetlamps outside. Hermione heard her mother press another button and the door closed behind her. She closed her eyes and prepared to be taken away to the land of dreams, hoping that they wouldn't be ones to do with the reaping to be held the next day.

* * *

The sun was still shining over District 3 on the day of the reaping. Hermione obediently and silently slipped on her reaping outfit – a silky pale pink dress with white polished shoes. She pulled her hair back into a half ponytail and sighed at her reflection in the mirror. Because this day was a very important day, a day supposed to be considered a 'celebration', it was important to look nice for it. Though she seemed calm, Hermione's eyes could not hide the fear that she was holding.

"Hermione! It's time to go!"

Hermione took in a shuddering breath and exited her room, pressing the button to close the door behind her. She heard the door hit the wall softly and did not look back – did not think that that could be the last time she saw her room.

Her parents were waiting for her at the front door. They were smiling reassuringly at her. "Come on now," her father said. "We'll be back home soon."

Hermione nodded. She saw her parents exchange a look and her mother walked over to her.

"Hermione," she said softly, "you'll be fine. Your name's only been entered six times, they're not going to pick you. You're our only daughter. They can't take you away from us."

Hermione nodded once more. "I know." She replied, and chose not to add that the Capitol was so cruel it very well could take her away from them. It had already taken away children from so many different families, regardless of whether they were an only child or not. That was how brutal and sick they were. However, she had the least chance of being chosen than any other seventeen-year-old girl in this district.

The odds were against her being chosen as a tribute. Her name had only been entered six times– the minimum number of times a seventeen-year-old could be entered. Her parents refused to slip in her name more times for tessera – they had other means to survive without the additional supplies offered in exchange for entering more times. Unfortunately, Hermione knew of many who had to enter their names for tessera, simply because they couldn't stay alive without it.

_Only two more years,_ Hermione thought to herself. _Two more times I have to be entered in this, and I'll be safe after that. Two more years, and I won't have to worry about myself being in the Hunger Games anymore_.

The Hunger Games was an annual event, created by the Capitol for entertainment and to remind the twelve districts of Panem of their place. 62 years ago, the twelve districts had rebelled against the Capitol, and were unfortunately beaten. After that, the Capitol had decided to punish them by coming up with The Hunger Games – a tournament of sorts where 24 'tributes', a boy and girl from each district from the ages of 12 to 18, competed in a large arena on live television in a game of survival. The last person standing was the winner, and would be bathed in glory from then on.

It was a cruel, horrible punishment, one Hermione wished she could stop in some way. Every year, she was forced to watch as friends from districts turned on each other, tributes mercilessly killed and young children starved. Every year, she was thankful she wasn't picked.

Hermione had no idea what was so entertaining about children killing each other to survive, but apparently the Capitol did. However, she had to admit there was a very interesting aspect of the games, and that was the use of wands.

Panem was a large nation. It was also magical, although no other land in the world had any magic in it whatsoever. The witches and wizards in Panem used to be able to use their wands and study spells and magic, but after the rebellion, the Capitol confiscated every citizen's wand to prevent a similar uprising from occurring again. The only witches and wizards able to use magic were the ones that lived in the Capitol.

The interesting aspect of the Hunger Games was the fact that during the week while they were mentored in the Capitol, the tributes got their own wand and used the spare time they had to study to learn as many spells as possible. Hermione, having been reading books all her life and working in a bookstore for a long time, had been able to read about many of those spells. Those who didn't learn many spells in time did not have as good a chance of victory, although they could certainly rely on non-magical means to win.

In Districts 1, 2 and 4, being chosen as a tribute was a wonderful honour, so much so that a lot of people who didn't get chosen opted to volunteer to take their place. It was such an honour that children were trained for the games from the moment they were born, and because of that, they were called 'Career Tributes' or 'Careers' for short. Because of that, they were the ones that won most of the time.

District 3, on the other hand, hated the Capitol, and ever since the rebellion they had been living in near-poverty. Other districts were living far worse than them, though, which Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine. Hermione was thankful she wasn't in a Career district. She'd hate to be forced to train for such a horrible event, as if she were expected to participate in it.

Once she was no longer within the age limit, she would live in peace, knowing she'd never have to face reaping day, the day tributes are chosen for the Hunger Games, with such fear again.

As she walked along sombrely with her parents down to the centre of District 3, Hermione watched the other young adults around her. Were they as nervous as she was? Probably more so – their names were most likely entered more times than hers were. She was lucky!

They all looked lost in thought, not smiling. Their faces were pale with fright, but they all obediently waited until it was their turn to sign in and give a sample of their blood. Hermione winced as her finger was pricked but continued the routine she'd become so familiar with. She walked over to the seventeen-year-olds and solemnly turned to face the stage, waiting for the mayor's familiar face to appear on the stage. She did not pay attention to any of the citizens around her; she just wished this would all be over soon.

The crowd was quiet and sad, murmuring softly amongst themselves. Hermione had no doubt that, at that moment, the Capitol was celebrating, taking bets on who would be selected. They were disgusting, those people, and Hermione wished she could give them a piece of her mind.

If only she could do so without being killed.

District 3's mayor appeared on the stage. His neat suit only barely fit his chubby form as he stumbled over to the microphone to begin the annual speech. Hermione listened as he retold the story everyone was all too familiar with – the story of how all the districts rebelled against the Capitol and as punishment, now must endure this event every year. It was a way to remind everyone that there was no way they'd ever overthrow the Capitol.

Finally, the story ended, and everyone seemed more alert as Raeden Mishfort, District 3's escort, appeared on the stage. Escorts were residents of the Capitol whose job was to, as assumed, escort tributes to the Capitol and teach them of its ways. They were different to mentors, whose job was to help train the tributes and advise them– mentors were past victors, so they knew what they were talking about. It was also their responsibility to help their tributes gain sponsors – wealthy people who, if convinced, would use their means to help a tribute in trouble. In the last parts of the game, where tributes are injured, or hungry, sponsors could very well be lifesavers, and this was why it was important for tributes to make a good impression on them during the opening ceremony and interviews.

So many things about Raeden Mishfort had stayed the same this past year. He still had his short, button nose. He still had a few natural freckles and one fake beauty mark on the left of his bottom lip. He was still quite short, and Hermione could see lifts in his shoes that didn't help much. However, there were a few things that had changed about him. His blue hair had grown in the past year – it was now up to his shoulders, curly and wavy. His right cheek glinted thanks to the gold gem sewn into it. Hermione winced as she imagined something being sewn into her skin. That's just the way the Capitol were – they loved style and would do anything to project it. For Hermione and District 3, though, it did appear quite odd and unusual. No one would ever dare say that aloud, though.

"Hello!" Raeden called out, as if announcing an act at a particularly loud concert. "Hello, District 3!" He ignored the lack of a response. Only several people applauded, or said anything. He did not falter, and continued on his merry, excited way."Welcome to the reaping for the 61st Hunger Games!" He raised his wand, which looked as if it'd been painted green, and let colourful fireworks stream out of it and into the crisp, fresh air. This time, District 3 did applaud – everyone was entranced by magic, and longed to be able to do it again.

"Now, as you know, I'm Raeden Mishfort, and it's a delight to be back here in District _3_ again, for the _third_ time!" He beamed expectantly at the crowd. Some laughed, others smirked, but the majority stayed quiet. "What a lovely little district this is, and no, I'm not disappointed that I haven't moved up to the second or first, because I happen to mentor lovely citizens from this district." He failed to mention that none of them had made it out alive.

After an awkward pause, he continued. "Now, let's get on with it, shall we?" He smiled cheerfully at the crowd and gestured towards the two glass bowls on either side of him. "How about we begin with the ladies?"

Hermione breathed in sharply; the girls around her did the same. From the corner of her eye she noticed two girls grip hands tightly. Hermione bit her lip and tried to control her breathing.

Raeden lowered his hand into the bowl on his right, ruffling through the slips of paper. Hermione didn't dare look away. Her heart was pounding erratically in her chest.

_Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom._

It was similar to the sound Hermione imagined horses make when they gallop, although she'd never actually seen a real life horse before... they were only in District 10.

Raeden's fingers grasped a name.

_Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom..._

He raised it out of the bowl and grasped the other end of the paper with his other hand.

_Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom..._

He opened his mouth to announce the name. Hermione took in a deep breath.

_Ba-ba-boom, ba-ba boom, ba-ba boom..._

"HERMIONE GRANGER!"

Her heart stopped.

It didn't matter that he'd mispronounced her name and instead of saying Her-my-oh-nee had called out Her-mee-own. It was obvious what he meant. The girls around her turned their heads to look at her. Hermione wasn't sure where to look. She was stumped. For the first time in her life she didn't know what to do.

Firstly, she exhaled. That seemed like a good way to start. Her lip quivered. Though she had witnessed reapings every year of her life, had seen tributes react in so many different ways, she was unsure as to what she should do now.

"Her-mee-own?" Raeden called out, being aware that the girl was out there, judging from everyone's reaction.

Hermione stepped out of her section and shakily walked out into the aisle separating the boys and girls. She glanced around at the children of District 3, as if they'd help her somehow.

"Ah, Her-mee-own, there you go." When Hermione did nothing, he chuckled. "Come on, now, come on up, don't be shy." Hermione took a small step towards the stage, then another. She probably looked quite ridiculous, but that was the last thing on her mind. "That's the way, come on." Hermione continued walking, speeding up after every step. By the time she was a foot away from the stage she was walking in her usual pace."Ah, there we go." Raeden announced as she stepped over to him.

"Now, I must ask..."he paused dramatically. "Are there any volunteers?"

Hermione did not raise her hopes. She knew there wouldn't be. In all her seventeen years, she'd never had a single friend beside her parents. It'd been awfully lonely, but she had books to keep her company, books to occupy herself with... although sometimes she'd look over at children who'd walk past her and see them laughing and smiling, sharing food and secrets and interests, and sadness would overwhelm her. No, she'd never had a friend, much less one that'd volunteer to take her place in a game in which death is almost certain.

"No?" Raeden asked, giving the district one more chance to change their mind. No one answered, and so he took a deep breath. "District 3," he began, his voice low, deep, dramatic, "your female tribute," he grasped her hand, "Her-mee-own Granger!" He raised it triumphantly into the air. Only a few people clapped. Raeden didn't look perplexed.

Finally, Hermione was able to regain use of her voice. "It…it's Her-my-oh-nee, actually."

Raeden glanced over at her. "Pardon?"

"Hermione. You... it's Hermione, not Her-mee-own."

Raeden chuckled."Ah, sorry." He faced the audience once more. "HERMIONE GRANGER!" A few more people clapped, but everyone else remained sombre. "Alright, now, stand over here, Hermione, on my right, there you go." Raeden gently nudged her over."Let's select a male tribute!"

Hermione looked over at the male side, at the boys who suddenly looked more alert, more afraid. The atmosphere in the centre of District 3 was tense. Hermione watched as Raeden slipped his hand into the bowl on his left that contained the name of every boy from District 3 from the ages 12-18 at least once.

Even though it had nothing to do with her, and her name had already been selected, Hermione was still nervous. There was something frightning about the way escorts chose tributes. Perhaps it was the escort's cheerfulness. Perhaps it was the silence as they waited. Or perhaps it was just the simple knowledge that this person was almost certainly going to die.

Raeden's long, blue fingernails held onto the slip of paper tightly. He smoothed it out with his fingers and smiled as he prepared to announce the name on it. "Ernie Macmillan!"

Hermione's brown eyes immediately scanned around the crowd to find Ernie's face, along with the rest of District 3. His blond hair had been smoothed back with gel and his plump cheeks now lacked their usual pink. He had gone completely pale. He looked horrified.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile as he caught her eye. That did not seem to reassure him, and Hermione immediately knew why. One of them would die. One of them would certainly die. At least. Maybe both of them would. Knowing District 3's luck, or lack thereof, it would most likely be both of them. District 3 hadn't won a Hunger Games in 9 years.

Ernie seemed to regain his senses quicker than Hermione did, which was interesting, since Hermione was usually a lot more logical than the average person. Hermione didn't know Ernie very well though – maybe he was similar to her.

Ernie came up to the stage, as white as a ghost. He was watching Hermione and Raeden carefully.

Raeden did not seem to notice. "There you go. Now, any volunteers?"

No one answered.

"Alright then!" he called out. "Your male tribute, Ernie Macmillan!"

Once again, only a few people applauded. Though most District 3 citizens hated the Capitol, or at least didn't agree with them, there were still some who enjoyed the Hunger Games, that supported it, because they were able to bet on the outcomes of the game and reapings and possibly earn money as a result. Those were the people who put their hands together for the two children who would almost certainly die.

Ernie and Hermione stood side by side as the mayor came back onto the stage to read out the Treaty of Treason, the treaty that'd been signed once the Capitol had managed to contain the rebellion. Though every year Hermione listened diligently to it, this year, she could not. She was lost in her thoughts. They'd finally caught up to her and she was now starting to fully realise what was happening to her. She would be sent into an outdoor arena to fight against Ernie, fight against young children, fight against people who'd been training for this their whole lives.

She gulped, feeling really, truly afraid.

"Thank you, everyone." The mayor said in a low, grave voice, finally finishing his speech and turning to face the two tributes.

Hermione cast a sideways glance at Ernie and saw that his hand was now being extended to her. She took his hand and shook it, keeping her eyes on his. She was mentally wishing him good luck. She had a feeling he, though he barely knew her and had never spoken to her, had the decency to think it back at her. She could see it in his blue irises.

Raeden stepped up to the microphone and addressed the audience for the final time. "Happy Hunger Games, everyone, and may–"

"–may the odds be ever in your favour," Hermione mouthed with him, hoping that they would be. She would need all the luck she could get.

The national anthem of Panem began and from the corner of her eye she noticed Peacekeepers, officers required to keep order by the Capitol, approaching her and Ernie. They were there to escort them to the Justice Building, to make sure she and Ernie didn't try and run away. It had happened many times before.

Hermione dutifully began to make her way off the stage, casting a final look at the crowd and the centre of her home. She did not allow herself to cry. Crying was a weakness, and everyone in District 3 knew how crisp everyone's televisions were, how easily everyone would be able to see her tears, should she let them show. If she cried, everyone would know she was a weakling, someone to disregard, someone to not bother to help, because she'd die straight away.

Hermione took in a deep breath and looked away from the citizens of District 3. They would not help her with her struggle to contain her emotions. Only she could do that at the moment. She had to stay strong.

Ernie stumbled as they walked down the stairs and it was a sign of how scared Hermione was that she immediately jumped up at the sudden movement.

_That's the least of your worries now, Hermione_, she thought to herself.

They walked along a pathway down to the Justice Building, a bright white building with large clear windows. One of them was being cleaned by a machine. District 3, in charge of technology, had come up with a fascinating invention that was hidden between a wall and window and after the press of a button would creep out and wash the window. Hermione glanced over at Ernie; it was his father who'd helped create it. He seemed a little reassured by the sight of his father's machine and the ghost of a smile began to appear on his still-paleface.

The Peacekeepers opened the door and split up. One of them began to guide Ernie into a room; the other stayed with Hermione and gestured to a room opposite. He allowed Hermione to step into the room and then quickly pressed a button and the door closed behind her.

Hermione turned to face it, knowing that behind it, through a few walls, was the world she had known her entire life, the world she'd been born in, raised in, and now taken from... would she ever see it again? Would she ever see delivery boxes flying on cable carts above, programmed to reach a certain destination? Would she ever hear the children's laughter as they constructed new ways for marbles to ride down built courses? Would she ever be able to walk down the main street of District 3 and marvel over the way seventeen years worth of memories washed over her, engraved in the buildings, the people, the air...

Hermione suddenly turned away from the door, unable to look at it. She glanced around the room, taking in the precise details. It was extravagant, even for her, who'd lived fairly well off for most of her life. The carpet appeared soft, the couch smooth and the table a rich oak. She ran her fingers along the surface, admiring the perfectly polished texture and wondering what it'd be like to study at it. Oh, dear Merlin, would she ever study again?

Yes, yes she would. She would need to revise and learn about spells... she'd be able to use magic for the first time in her life... she'd get a wand, a real wand. In spite of herself, Hermione felt a shiver of excitement at that. Magic had always seemed thrilling to her. That was probably the only good thing to look forward to in this cruel, sick tournament.

She had one hour, only one hour to say her final goodbyes to her home, to her family. After that, she'd be whisked onto a train and taken to the Capitol, where she'd endure a week of training and mentoring by a past victor from District 3, and then... and then the games would officially begin.

_A/N There you have it - the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought by clicking on the review button below (is it just me, or has it changed for you too? It was quite a surprise when I came across it.)_


	2. Goodbyes and Greetings

_Thank you everybody for your encouraging reviews! I'm very thankful, and it's making me want to post the next few chapters. Here's the second chapter._

_Once again, thank you to my beta, Sophie, and Hunger Games and Harry Potter belong to Suzanne Collins and J.K. Rowling, respectively. _

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 2: Goodbyes and Greetings_

One thing about doors that slide open by themselves at the press of a button is that you can never tell how the person behind it is feeling. Hermione remembered how before the invention was thought up, her mum would slowly open the door, peek in and then fully slide in, graceful as always. Whenever her father had a miraculous discovery, he'd fling open the door in excitement, shouting 'I'VE GOT IT!' It was amazing how many different ways there were to open a door, and Hermione had never fully realised it until the ability was gone.

Today, if her parents had to manually push open a door, they would have flung it open and barreled in, because that was exactly how they entered the room once the door slid open far enough.

"HERMIONE!" her mother exclaimed, rushing over to her.

Hermione quickly stood up and was pushed back slightly by the force of her mother's embrace. There was nothing graceful about her now. Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on her mother's shoulder, struggling not to cry. She was in the Hunger Games now. She had to be smart. It was the only thing she could count on.

Hermione took in a deep breath and allowed her eyes to flutter open. They met her father, whose eyes were also glazed with tears behind his glasses. His rough hand lay on Mrs. Granger's other shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

"Mum," Hermione said calmly whilst her mother continued to wail. "It's all right."

This only made Mrs. Granger cry harder.

"It _will_ be all right." Mr. Granger said, taking a step closer towards his family. "Love, you know Hermione. She's smart. She can out-wit everyone in the game."

Hermione smiled at him through watery eyes. He genuinely believed in her. "Thanks, Dad."

Mr. Granger's comment seemed to calm his wife too. Her sobs subsided and she pulled away from Hermione with a red, puffy, blotchy face. "You can, Hermione." She took a deep breath. "And you will. We can't lose you."

Hermione nodded. "You won't." She declared, not knowing why she was promising something so improbable.

"That's the spirit!"Mr. Granger said, putting on a false smile, a fake sign of optimism. Hermione knew her father far too well. "You're a _Granger_ – you can do anything."

They all chuckled, desperate to do anything to prevent an overflow of tears that would undoubtedly flood the plain yet luxurious room they were in and stop several mechanisms that could not operate when wet.

After a moment's silence, Hermione opened her mouth. "I love you. I love both of you."

Mrs. Granger placed her cool, soft hands against Hermione's cheeks and smiled, conveying all her love in one look. "We love you too," Mr. Granger murmured, wrapping his arms around his daughter. Mrs. Granger stepped back slightly to give them some space.

In the arms of her father, Hermione suddenly felt like the strongest girl in the whole world, safe and invincible. It was the way she'd always felt when she was hugged by her dad– like nothing could ever hurt her, and that she could take on everything. Hermione closed her eyes tightly and breathed in every ounce of his strength until she felt like she would explode with the sheer power of his courage.

The door slid open once more and Peacekeepers entered, breaking the warm, loving atmosphere that had settled upon the Granger family. "Time to go," they announced, their voices low but clear and authoritative.

Hermione watched as her mother's resolve faded and her eyes overflowed with fresh, new tears. "Good luck, Hermione!" she cried as they were pulled away. "You can do it!"

"I love you!"Hermione shouted out to the two of them, emotion dripping from her words as she struggled not to lose control herself. Every part of her small, seventeen-year-old body was begging her to collapse onto the floor and cry at the injustice that had affected her so horribly.

She was not done, though. The Peacekeepers glanced over at the female tribute and, without even a sympathetic smile, announced she had another visitor.

Hermione watched as they moved aside. The Peacekeepers disappeared, and in their place now stood a kindly old man with small, circular spectacles.

Hermione smiled at him. "Mr. Bogs," she whispered, feeling a lot happier now that he was there.

He ambled over to the oak table and grasped her young, milky hands with his old, wrinkled ones. "Hermione," he moaned, shaking his head in sadness and shock. What was left of his white, wispy hair delicately moved with him in the air. "It is so unfair that this has happened to you."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "It's unfair that it happened to anyone. Twenty-three other children are going through the exact same thing, and very soon, only one of us will be alive."

"You." Mr. Bogs said firmly, tightening his hold on her hands. "It will be you."

"Mr. Bogs, you know how difficult—"

"Since when has that ever stopped you, my dear?" Mr. Bogs asked, tilting his head sideways as if he were studying her. "Since when have you looked at a challenge, shook your head and thought – 'I can't do this?'"

Hermione sighed, smiling at his faith in her. "Thank you, Mr. Bogs, but I think you know that it'll be a miracle if I make it out of this."

"And why's that?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment. "Be-because!" she spluttered. "Because I'm not good with swords, or bows, or knives, or any kind of weapon. I'm not strong, I'm not fit. I'm not quick, I won't be able to get to any weapons in the Cornucopia at the beginning of the games, and even if I do, somehow, I will have no idea how to use them."

"You don't need those weapons!" Mr. Bogs cried, watching her eagerly. "You don't!" He leaned over across the table, his eyes wide and friendly. "You, Hermione," he said in a whisper, as if it were a secret, "have brains."

Hermione sighed. "Well, yes, I do, but—"

"Hermione, I've been forced to watch every single Hunger Games ever since it was created. I know what I'm talking about. No matter how many weapons you've got, no matter how trained you are, if you don't have brains, and logic, and common sense..." he paused on this for effect, "if you don't have that, you've got no chance. And you, my dear, do." He smiled at her. "You've got gumption, and strive, too, which is certainly valuable and important." He paused once again, a master of drama. "Don't count yourself out, Hermione. Not when you've got so much."

Hermione glanced at the oak table, running her finger over the lovely surface. She smiled at Mr. Bogs' kind words. Glancing up at him, her smile grew. "You really think I've got a chance?"

He leaned further across the table. "You can very well win."

Hermione watched as the old man beamed at her encouragingly, feeling confidence brewing in her.

"Hermione," he said, turning away from her and looking into the pocket of his coat. "I don't suppose you have a token yet, do you?" he glanced up at her questioningly.

Hermione stared at him for a moment and shook her head. "I don't, no." Tokens were a small object tributes were allowed to take with them into the outdoor arena, whatever the arena contained. A token was often small and easy to carry. Most of the time, it had something to do with the district from which it came from – a symbol of hope, a reminder from home.

"I've got something for you that I'd like you to consider taking into the arena." He looked back at his coat, rummaging through the pockets in it. "It's... it's not a reminder of home, but... with brains like yours, I don't think you need reminding of home and what you're fighting for. Rather, I think, you need something that'll enhance and improve your strengths, so..."

He took out of his pocket and lay a book on the table. It was a small, and Hermione could see it fitting in one of the pockets of the suits that the stylists in the Capitol designed for the tribute to wear in the Hunger Games.

"Take a look." Mr. Bogs said, pushing it over towards her.

Hermione seemed to shake out of her stupor and took the book into her hands. It was bendy, which meant it would be even easier to carry, and light, too. One the dark forest-green cover, engraved in a dark gold colour, was the title – _Herbs and Plants_. Underneath it, in a smaller script were the words _A Guide_.

"It's basically, as I think you've gathered, a guide to plants. It'll be very useful to you. You know we don't know much about plants in District 3. This may help you."

Hermione glanced up at Mr. Bogs. "But... won't they confiscate it from me?" She looked over at the book again. "This is going to tell me what plants are and are not poisonous –which ones I can and can't eat."

"That's right." Mr. Bogs said.

"So, wouldn't they confiscate it? It'll give me an advantage in the games, won't it?" Hermione asked. If a token gave a tribute an advantage, the Peacekeepers immediately took possession of it and the tribute would be left without a token at all.

"Hermione, most of the tributes are from farming and agriculture industries. They know all about this book. They've probably memorised it. They already know everything there is to know in this book. This means that you're not getting an advantage – you're just making this a level playing field. You tell the Peacekeepers that, and they'll let you keep it. All they want is a good show – if some know about plants and most don't, doesn't it mean that the ones who do have more chance of winning? The Capitol doesn't want that. They want everyone to be even, to make it the best entertainment, to make the victor a surprise. You trust me – you'll be able to keep the book."

Frankly, Hermione dreaded having to talk to the Peacekeepers, but Mr. Bogs had a point.

"If this book had _magical_ plants in it, on the other hand..." he paused. "Then they would've confiscated it, and that would have made a lot of sense – none of the tributes know anything about magical plants, so you must be careful of those."

Hermione nodded.

"Look at the pictures, study the book when you're resting."

"Will I be _able_ to rest in the arena, Mr. Bogs?" Hermione asked, feeling doubtful.

"Yes." Mr. Bogs said. "You will."

Suddenly the door slid open. The Peacekeepers stood in the doorway, tall and stiff. "It's time to go." They took a threatening step forward towards Mr. Bogs.

"No, no, thank you, I'm fine, I'm going." Mr. Bogs said, hastily putting his hand up to avoid them from coming closer. He slowly got up and then began walking over to the door. Just before he went through the doorway, he turned back to Hermione. "Good luck, Hermione, and remember – you're stronger than any of them."

Hermione smiled at him and nodded. _Anything's possible_. "Thank you, Mr. Bogs!" she cried out, waving goodbye. She continued waving until he completely disappeared from sight.

The two Peacekeepers turned to each other. "The boy is still with his visitor." One said.

"We'll get him now."The other replied.

They both looked at Hermione. "Stay here." They ordered, and pointed at the room she was already in.

Hermione nodded and watched the door slide close behind the Peacekeepers. She looked down at her token, her book. _Mr. Bogs was wrong_, she thought. _It _does_ remind me of home_. Books had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. She'd always be reading some book. Her room had been scattered with books from an early age.

She flipped open to the first page, which recommended which features of plants you could look at to see if it was edible or not.

_Try to avoid plants with fine hairs_, she read. _Thorns and—_

The door opened and Hermione glanced up from her book. The Peacekeepers were once again in the doorway, looking down at her. "We have to leave." They said, and gestured her to come forward. Hermione gracefully stood up, book in hand, and came over to them. Behind them stood Ernie, still pale, although some colour had returned to his face.

The older, burlier Peacekeeper glared at them. "All right, you two. We're going to get into the car and make our way to the train station. You'll meet Raeden and your two mentors on the train. Don't snuggle up to the cameras on the station for too long, we can't be late."

"We're not the Careers." Hermione blurted out. This time, both Peackeepers glared at her. She kept her ground, but tried a different tactic. _Don't upset them, Hermione, otherwise you can say goodbye to your token._ "What I mean is, we didn't ask for this. We don't want glory. I'm fairly sure Ernie and I just want to avoid the cameras... so you won't need to worry about that."

Ernie nodded vigorously in agreement.

The Peacekeepers rolled their eyes. The younger one turned and began to walk. The second Peacekeeper nudged Ernie and Hermione forward, quite roughly, too, until they began to follow the one in front. The older Peacekeeper stayed at the back, making sure they didn't try to escape.

They made their way to the car, which had lots of room and comfortable seats. Hermione and Ernie sat in the back silently and looked out the windows, thinking about their final goodbyes to their home. Hermione struggled not to cry as they went past _Bogs' Books and Related Products_ and her home.

Finally they arrived at the train station. The car came to a halt and out the window Hermione could see many TV reporters and cameras. Hermione opened the door of the car and stepped out, and immediately the media exploded with flashes and questions. The Peacekeeper closest to her kept saying, "Keep moving. Just get to the train." Hermione tried her best, but all the while was thinking, _if I can't handle the media, how can I handle the games_?

It seemed that Ernie was struggling too, but eventually they made it to the door of the train. The train was extremely large, and Hermione wondered why it needed to be so, if there were only a few people on it. She wasn't complaining though, and neither was Ernie, as they gazed at the scarlet steel train in wonder.

The cameras continued flashing and recording, and Hermione and Ernie were ordered to turn around and face them once they got onto the train. They did so, standing in the doorway and smiling fake smiles at the reporters. It was a good thing they didn't look like they'd been crying, otherwise, other tributes would immediately see that these two were weaklings.

Hermione felt a hand against her elbow. She turned around and Raeden was smiling at the two of them, standing so that reporters couldn't see him. "Come on, now. It's time for the train to depart for the Capitol." Ernie and Hermione looked at each other, then at Raeden and stepped into the corridor of the train.

The Capitol train was the most lavish train imaginable. Hermione had not had much experience with trains... actually, none at all, but she couldn't picture a normal train being as stylish and comfortable as this one. A normal train wouldn't have couches so soft and plush that one could almost swim in them. A normal train wouldn't have a giant dining table with golden chairs. A normal train wouldn't have a private room specifically for Hermione, a room with an ensuite that contained a shower which had both hot and cold water.

Hermione turned away from her room, which she'd been admiring from the doorway, and looked at Raeden. "This is mine?

"All yours, for the train ride, of course." He said, grinning. "Wear whatever you want, use whatever you want. Just make sure you're at supper in forty-five minutes."

Hermione nodded and entered the room cautiously. Raeden chuckled.

"Don't worry, go ahead, go in." Hermione walked into the centre of the room. Raeden laughed again, a charming smile etched upon his face. "There you go."He said. "I'll see you at supper." The door closed behind him softly –surprisingly, the Capitol had not chosen to use sliding doors on every door they had. Most of the time, when something new was thought up in District 3, the Capitol immediately began to use it. In the Capitol, however, only some doors would open manually, and only some would slide open. In special offices, they'd open automatically, without the press of a button, but District 3 did not use them in their homes because they found it to be a security issue.

Hermione gazed around the room. It was done in soft blue. The walls were painted a pale, peaceful shade, the bed sheets were white with blue designs. Hermione slowly walked up to it and ran her hands along the material. She sighed, her soft eyelids closing as she sat down on the large and bouncy mattress. Her back made contact with the rest of the mattress as she lay there, half on, half off, legs dangling on the side. She thought about what had happened to her these past few hours, how she was now meant to be fighting to the death against 23 other children, one of which was a few doors down...

Eventually, Hermione got up and showered. She hung her dress on a coat hanger in her wardrobe and surveyed the many options she had to wear. Normally, Hermione would feel most comfortable in jeans and a jumper, but now, Hermione felt she had to dress a bit more formally.

Eventually, Hermione settled on a plain blue dress with a white collar. Her hair still slightly damp, Hermione wished she could use a drying spell, but she was yet to be given her wand. Instead, she had to use the usual means – a hairdryer, created by District 3, which reminded her of home too.

As she walked down the corridor towards the dining room, Hermione watched the world outside rush by. She couldn't believe that the train could travel so quickly, yet feel as if it were perfectly still. It was all thanks to District 6, whose industry was transportation.

When Hermione finally reached the dining room, Raeden was already there, sitting and beaming at the world around him. When his eyes landed on Hermione, his smile only seemed to grow wider, which Hermione didn't think was possible.

"Ah, Hermione! Nice and early! Welcome! Take a seat, there you go."

Hermione elegantly sat down. "Who else will be joining us today?" she asked.

"Well, Ernie, obviously. Also, you'll meet your mentors."

Hermione sat up a little straighter at the mention of her mentors. She really wanted to make a good impression on them, so they realised she was a strong contender, one that would use their advice and any gifts they managed to get from sponsors wisely.

"They were at the reaping, weren't they?" Hermione asked Raeden.

"That's right. The female, Lysabelle Nighter won in the 53rdHunger Games. Colin Hurder won the 42nd Hunger Games. They're charming people. You'll learn a lot from them."

Hermione smiled. "Good."

At that moment, a young man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties came into the dining area. He had short and wavy dark hair atop of his long head; his eyes were the same colour. He was tall and well-built.

Behind him was a younger woman with extremely dark brown hair that looked almost black. She was shorter than the man, but still reflected authority, power and determination with her posture and manner alone. She had a few freckles on her pale face sprinkled over her short nose.

The two newcomers smiled at Raeden and Hermione. "Hello there," the young man said.

Raeden grinned at them. "Hello! Hello!" he cried. "Come on, sit down." They sat down opposite Hermione, leaving the chair next to Hermione for Ernie. "There you go."

"I'm Colin," the man said, gesturing to himself. Hermione smiled at him and nodded her head.

"Hermione."

"I'm Lysabelle." Lysabelle added, sounding almost as if she did not want to be left out.

Hermione directed a smile at her too. "Hi."

Raeden beamed at the sight – in Hermione's opinion, he seemed to smile at everything. "All right! Seems like we're only missing one other person." He scanned around the room. "He should be here shortly."

At that moment, Ernie appeared. He seemed slightly flabbergasted that everyone was here before him, but sat down next to Hermione nevertheless. Hermione noticed his face was a little too pink now; Ernie had been crying.

It seemed that Raeden had noticed this too, for his smile faltered slightly. "Uh, Ernie, I'd like you to meet your mentors, Colin and Lysabelle, victors of the 53rd and 42nd Hunger Games."

Ernie acknowledged them with a curt "Hi," and a small smile.

The food on the table, which had been covered by an extra tablecloth, suddenly appeared before them as Raeden pulled the cloth away. "There you go!" he exclaimed. "Plenty of food for everyone!"

Hermione and Ernie only looked at the table for a split-second before diving in. Hermione, at least, ate this food with decorum. Ernie, on the other hand, who was usually polite and graceful too, stuffed his face, silently rejoicing at the wonderful, tasty food they'd never had the money to afford in District 3.

Dinner small talk began and Hermione and Ernie were asked to describe themselves and their homes. Colin and Lysabelle added in parts now and again and also asked questions. Raeden, for once, stayed silent, interested in learning about a district he'd been to three times but never really seen – the district responsible for all the advances in technology the Capitol had.

Eventually, the conversation began to steer towards Colin and Lysabelle's experiences in District 3. Hermione, being the curious person she was, and not one to procrastinate receiving knowledge, immediately began asking questions about their time in the Hunger Games arena.

"It was tough. You two are in for a really tough time." Colin told them.

"Yes, I understand," Hermione said hastily, eager to receive a smidge of advice straight away. "But what was the most difficult part of the games?"

Colin and Lysabelle turned to each other, having a small conversation with their eyes as they tried to decide on an answer to Hermione's question. Before they could reply, however, Raeden interrupted.

"Oh, come on, now!" he chortled. "How about we save that grim subject for tomorrow? Let's enjoy ourselves tonight."

Ernie let out a moan beside Hermione and she knew he would not be enjoying himself that evening. He'd eaten way too much.

"How about we watch a recap of all the reapings?"

Hermione nodded, eager to see her competition. She mentioned this to Ernie as they all got up.

Ernie, who looked a little pale again, agreed. "You're absolutely right. We've got to start developing strategies."

They end up in a small compartment, all five of them, and they begin watching. The two males from Districts 1 and 2 stood out for Hermione – both tall, both well-built, both blond, although the boy from District 1's hair was so blond it was nearly white, whilst the other one's hair was a sandy shade. Hermione couldn't remember their unusual names for too long.

The girl from District 4, who was only 14, seemed like a fierce contender, and Hermione resolved to keep an eye on her. Determination pulsed out of her, a trait she and Hermione both shared, but this girl's determination was also mixed with arrogance, something Hermione hoped she didn't emit.

Another boy who Hermione remembered was called Callum, who was only 13 and from District 6. He looked absolutely terrified as he went up on stage and, not surprisingly, no one volunteered to take his place. Hermione felt unbelievably sad watching his reaping.

The boy chosen from District 7 was a sixteen year old with jet-black hair and bright green eyes covered by round glasses that had been taped together multiple times, Hermione noticed. Above those eyes was a very distinctive lightning scar, red and bright. Hermione wondered how on earth he could have possibly received it. His name was Harry Potter, and Hermione knew she'd remember him well. There was something about him that showed he was a very strong contender in these games.

"All right," Raeden said, settling further back in his velvet armchair. "Now they'll be showing District 10."

On the perfect screen appeared a small stage in a large town square. Hermione was shocked at how many children were standing as potential tributes. The whole population of District 3 could've been standing there, awaiting their fate. Immediately, Hermione knew that this district was much larger than her own. Normally, whenever they showed District 10's reaping, Hermione was making her way to her own reaping, and so couldn't watch it. This time, she was able to really look at this district and study it.

The people there looked very poor, and were dressed in dull, dirty clothes. They patiently waited as a giggly, bouncy woman in her thirties came up onto the stage. Her bubblegum pink hair was fluffy and curly and the same shade as the heart-shaped tattoo on her forehead. She was dressed in an odd getup – a green jumpsuit with a pink tutu.

"That's Trixy," Raeden told them, pointing at her. "A barrel of laughs, she is."

"Hello, everyone!"she cried, waving her hands wildly at the unenthusiastic crowd. "District 10, I am proud to say that I am Trixy Edgely, your escort. Now, two very lucky tributes will join me on the journey of a lifetime to the Capitol to participate in the 61st annual Hunger Games!"

"Lucky?" Ernie asked incredulously, staring at Raeden.

Raeden didn't notice his sarcasm. "Isn't she a blast?" he asked gleefully.

They turned back to the screen to watch the reaping. Trixy was now putting her hand into the large bowl and selecting a name. Immediately, Hermione felt the anticipation and tension in the district as a camera zoned in on their frightened faces.

"Your female tribute," Trixy paused excitedly, "Lizzie Markshen!"

Immediately a shot of a young girl with blonde plaits appeared on the screen. Her grey eyes were wide with shock and fear, yet Lizzie stepped forward out of the crowd silently and walked up to the stage. Hermione shook her head, watching the screen. "She's only thirteen..."

"She looks a lot like Holly, from 9." Ernie commented. Holly Sillon, however, was 12.

"She does." Hermione agreed, frowning at the television as Trixy asked for volunteers, and as expected, no one offered themselves.

"All right!" Trixy exclaimed excitedly. "Now, let's meet your male tribute!" A camera soared over the young men in the crowd – they were suddenly more frightened and vulnerable. In that crowd, Hermione noticed bright red hair sticking out. It belonged to a boy with freckles and striking blue eyes.

Before Hermione could get a good look at the boy, the shot changed to Trixy, who was holding a sheet of paper in her hand. "Ronald Weasley!"

And suddenly the boy appeared on the screen. A flash of shock appeared on his face for a brief moment, and was suddenly replaced by a blank, emotionless expression as he walked past the crowd towards the stage.

Hermione watched him, fascinated. He was tall, with long legs and big feet, and he got up to the stage quickly, stumbling slightly on one step. _He's a little awkward, but he'll be fast_, Hermione thought. As he reached Trixy the camera zoomed up to his face.

There were more freckles on his face than Hermione realised. They were sprinkled over his long nose and across his thin cheeks. His lips were thin and his jaw was firm. His eyelashes and eyebrows were pale and difficult to make out. Hermione found them endearing.

Hermione was shaken out of her stupor as Trixy asked, "Any volunteers?"

No one offered.

"All right, then!" she exclaimed. "Your tributes this year – Lizzie Markshen and Ronald Weasley!"

After that there were only two more reapings to endure. Out of those, Hermione found Megan, the 16 year old girl from District 11, to be the most dangerous one.

As they left the viewing room to get ready for bed, Hermione tried to remember the faces to watch out for. There were a few – the two male careers from 1 and 2, the girls from 4, 6 and 7, and the boy from 9 and the girl from 11.

However, for some reason, there were two people that stood out more than anyone else. That Harry Potter... there was something about him... and Ronald Weasley...

_You're being ridiculous_, Hermione, she thought as she brushed her hair, which had returned to its unruly state during the evening as it dried naturally. _You've got nothing to fear when it comes to them. There are much worse people to look out for. They're nothing to worry about – they don't look particularly strong, especially Harry, who looks much too thin. Also, he's accident prone – how else could he have gotten that scar and broken his glasses so many times?_

_And Ronald, well... he doesn't look like he'll be that strong. He doesn't have much muscle. And his long legs don't mean anything, he's awkward and clumsy and he'll make a mistake that could cost him his life. Don't worry about Ronald Weasley._

So why was Hermione still thinking about him when she fell asleep that night?

_A/N Hope you enjoyed chapter 2. Leave a review letting me know! (:_


	3. Preparation

_I'd just like to thank everyone for their comments. I'm so glad you're interested and are looking forward to these updates. Also, a thanks to Sophie once again._

_Hunger Games and Harry Potter are Suzanne Collins' and J.K. Rowling's, respectively._

_Here's chapter 3!_

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 3: Preparation_

The bright sun was shining down beautifully on the Capitol that morning. Usually, Hermione was up at the same time as it was, but there was nothing usual about the situation Hermione was in. It was for this reason that Hermione had to be awoken by Raeden's loud knocking at nine in the morning.

"Rise and shine, Hermione!" he shouted through the thin walnut door. "Big day ahead, big day!"

Hermione blearily rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching her legs and arms. She sat up and walked over to the window, pushed back the white curtains and peered through it. Her eyes widened.

District 3 wasn't as far away from the Capitol as other districts, which was why they'd gotten to the Capitol quickly. They were one of the first there. Other Districts were only halfway there most likely. District 3's train had arrived at the Capitol at some point in the night, but Raeden had allowed everyone to sleep in.

They were only in the station, and yet Hermione was already impressed with the Capitol. The train station was modern and tasteful. It was clean, sleek and stylish. Technology was implemented everywhere, and all of it was familiar to Hermione, which made her like the station even more. She wondered what it would look like outside.

Quickly she turned away and went to the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth. She put on a sensible skirt and top and managed to pull her restless hair into a plait. Once she'd made her bed and cleaned up after herself she left her room and went to the dining table for breakfast.

Lysabelle and Colin were there already, smiling at her as she sat down opposite them.

"I'm not usually late," Hermione told them.

Their smiles turned into amused grins. "You're not late." Colin said to her. "Raeden's just gone to check on Ernie."

"Help yourself," Lysabelle said, gesturing to the food before them. Hermione smiled gratefully at them and began to eat the delicious food on the table.

Soon, Ernie and Raeden joined them, and as they all ate, Raeden began to explain to them how that day would work.

"All right!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "As you know, today will be extremely busy and hectic. We're in the Capitol now, and we're lucky, because there are a few districts that aren't here yet, so we have more preparation time than them."

"Who's here at the moment?" Ernie asked.

"District 1 and 2 arrived at about 9 and 11 o'clock respectively. We arrived at 2, and District 4 and 5 at 4. 6 and 7 came at 5 and 6, and 8 arrived at 8:30. The thing is, the other districts aren't behind us by that much so they'll be here shortly."

"What exactly is going to happen today?" Hermione asked Raeden.

"For most of today, you're basically going to be getting styled for the opening ceremony tonight. It's going to be a long process, and perhaps a painful one, but you've got to remember – no pain, no gain. After the opening ceremony, you'll be taken to the Training Centre and shown to your rooms. Tomorrow morning at 10 you'll begin your training. For today, though, just worry about making a good impression on everyone in the opening ceremony."

"Raeden," Lysabelle began, "if you don't mind, Colin and I would like to give these two a few tips." At that moment, Hermione observed her two mentors. She realised that those two weren't just two people forced to train others. Those two weren't just co-workers. Those two were friends, teammates. Everything they did was in sync. Their grins, their entrances. They knew each other well. Although, why wouldn't they? They'd been living in the Victors' Village together, a place in every district where victors relocated to after their win in the Hunger Games. They'd been working as mentors together for nine years. Obviously they understood each other and knew how the other was.

Raeden beamed at them and nodded. "Of course, fire away!"

Lysabelle leaned forward across the table, Colin following her. Hermione and Ernie automatically did the same thing, almost as if they were pulled towards their mentors.

"Okay," Lysabelle started, and it appeared she was the boss, the leader of the two. "Styling."

"It's going to hurt." Colin said.

"It's going to be embarrassing." Lysabelle said.

"You won't like it."Colin added.

"You'll hate it."Lysabelle said.

"You'll want to scream." Colin continued.

"You'll want to punch your prep team." Lysabelle said. "I nearly did."

"But," Colin said, his mellifluous voice low. "You must put up with them."

"No complaints. No whining. Nothing." Lysabelle ordered.

"Put on a brave face, you'll be going through worse in the arena." Colin told them. "Remember the word _charisma_. Use your charisma and charm. Right now, in the Capitol, it'll be the most important thing for you. Don't complain about what your prep team does to you. Don't argue with the stylist. Be upbeat and charming."

Hermione nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on every word they uttered.

"You're going to be plucked at, surveyed and scrutinised." Lysabelle explained. "You'll be in the nude." Hermione gasped in shock. "Yes, Hermione. Don't protest."

"But..." Hermione began. "The Capitol won't be seeing us nake—"

"No, but the prep team will want to make sure you look perfect for your stylist. Your stylist will enter after they've fixed every imperfection about you, and then your stylist will chat to you about yourself and your personality and mannerisms, and they'll find the perfect look for you. Your prep team will consist of about two or three people who will just make sure your body is ready for styling. Your stylist is the one who'll be in charge of your presentation, including outfit, make-up, style... Listen to them. They know what they're doing. You may not agree with them, but stylists know what the Capitol wants, and you want to be what the Capitol wants. Presentation and charisma is everything – you need to win the Capitol over if you want sponsors."

Ernie let out a deep breath at the end of Lysabelle's speech. "Wow." He sighed. "That's intense."

Lysabelle ignored his comment, whilst Colin moved on to another issue. "Also, we have to ask you something." He said, pausing. "Do you want us to train you together, or separately?"

Hermione looked down at the table, thinking the question over. On the one hand, working together meant that she'd get advice from both mentors, which was always important. On the other hand, if she chose to work with Ernie, he'd find out about her skills, which was important to keep secret. Not only that, but there was a possibility she may become good friends with Ernie which was a horrible possibility. If she grew closer to Ernie, how could she possibly be able to kill him?

Ernie seemed to be thinking the same thing. He glanced over at her warily and then turned to face Lysabelle and Colin. "I think separately."

Hermione nodded, and she saw Ernie let out a small sigh of relief.

"Okay then." Colin said. "So, how about... boys and girls? I train Ernie and Lysabelle helps Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Lysabelle grinned. "All right then, that's good."

"There you go," Raeden said, smiling at the scene. "You two," he said, directing his words at Ernie and Hermione, "are in great hands." He then clapped his hands together excitedly. "Now, come on! Eat up. We've got to get out of this train in ten minutes, and you have to get back and get your belongings. Don't worry about getting changed into the clothes you brought, you can stay in these outfits for today."

Ernie and Hermione nodded in understanding and quickly began to eat. After they finished, they got up and made their way to their rooms. Hermione only had to grab her reaping dress, shoes and token book, but she decided to go up to the window once more and take a look at the Capitol. She breathed in deeply.

_Please like me,_ she willed.

Ernie and Hermione met up with Raeden and their mentors at the door at the front of the train. They all looked at each other expectantly until Raeden spoke.

"You'll be taken to a car, then to the Training Centre. You're not getting a good look at it though– you'll be swept straight away to your floor, where your rooms are located. You won't see them until after the ceremony tonight. Instead, you'll be shown to your prep rooms and your team will immediately start working on you."

Raeden opened the door and began leading the way towards the escalators. Hermione watched as the Capitol began to reveal itself.

Hermione had to admit the cameras her district had created did no justice to the real thing. The Capitol was beautiful – bright and beckoning. It was filled with colour and light and enthusiastic people. The place was brilliant, albeit unsual, with its odd inhabitants and strange culture. If she hadn't known these people found her and 23 other peoples' deaths a source of entertainment, she'd have actually found this place to be much nicer.

Before the Capitol residents could realise there were tributes in their vicinity, Ernie and Hermione were whisked away to a car. They blended in with everybody as their vehicle drove along the road towards the training centre. Hermione and Ernie used this as an opportunity to observe this famous, worshipped place.

The buildings were tall and chic. Everything was clean and fresh. Bright, electronic signs were everywhere, reminding Hermione of her home. Everyone walked around in tall heels, with big, colourful hair that bumped into things as they moved. Practically everyone had a tattoo on them or a jewel sewn into their skin.

"They're quite eccentric, aren't they?" Ernie asked her as they drove.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I wonder if they realise that so many people consider this to be odd."

Ernie chuckled. "I think they know, but don't mind. They do think of us as toys in their games."

Hermione remained silent, mulling over what Ernie said. They were toys. All the tributes, just pawns in a giant game.

Ernie pulled her out of her musings. "Hermione," he began.

Hermione glanced at Ernie, the Capitol whooshing past behind him.

"I just want you to know," he began, "that the reason I said I wanted to work by myself was because I didn't want us to get closer."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I understand."

"You know that if we become friends it'll be much harder to fight in the games, and it'll be hard enough as it is."

"I know." Hermione said.

"The problem is, I like you already. You're not that bad. You're actually quite nice." He said. "I should've spoken to you back home."

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done."

He remained quiet. "Did you... did you have any friends at school?"

Hermione blushed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or—"

"No." She replied quickly. "I didn't." He frowned at her. "I didn't have any friends." She elaborated.

Ernie didn't say anything for a moment. "It's a shame it took all this," he gestured around him, "for us to actually talk to each other."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Yes." She said quietly. "It is." His comment made her wonder just how many friends she could've made back home.

They arrived at the Training Centre, and it was huge. It was a giant tower, and each level was designated for a specific district. According to Raeden, the gymnasium was underground.

As soon as they got out of the car, Lysabelle and Colin quickly escorted them inside the building. They didn't have any time to appreciate the entrance to the centre before they were pushed into a lift.

In District 3, the lifts they used were dark. In the Capitol, they were made of clear, perfect glass, and Hermione and Ernie watched as the people on the ground became smaller and smaller. They had a wonderful view of the Capitol as they were lifted up higher and higher.

They stopped on the third level, and Hermione was almost disappointed. She wondered what the view would be like from the twelfth level, and resolved to find out later on when she had some spare time.

As the doors opened Colin and Lysabelle gave each other a quick glance, exchanged some words with only their eyes, and then split up, taking Ernie and Hermione with them. Hermione was pulled to the right, Ernie the left.

Lysabelle led Hermione to a large room with a massage bed in the centre. There were several drawers on the side of the room, and seats for the prep team to sit on. Lysabelle gestured for Hermione to sit on the bed, and as the prep team came running in, Lysabelle quickly said, "Remember, no complaints," and quickly sped off.

Hermione's prep team consisted of three girls. Each one was in charge of a specific area of beauty. Saffron, a tall girl with bright, zesty, tangerine hair styled in curls, was going to be taking care of nails. Hermione noticed that Saffron herself had long nails painted red with a sticker in the shape of a flame on each one.

Spring, a girl who was short with pale green skin that was meant to look attractive yet to Hermione appeared like Spring would be sick any moment now, was going to take care of Hermione's hair. Hermione was relieved to see that Spring's hair was a natural brown, sleek and long, but wrapped up in a creative bun atop of her thin, oval head.

Dolly's hair was turquoise and actually simple when compared to the hair of others who resided in the Capitol. It was straight and even, and her fringe framed her nicely. She wore glasses with no lenses at the top of her head, and her dark blue eyes seemed to be almost a deep, unnatural shade. Her button nose was short and had a small tattoo on the right side – a mauve dot, which was plain but stood out on her face. Dolly would be in charge of waxing and removing unnecessary hair.

This was currently what was happening to her. Hermione had odd sticky sheets stuck onto her legs, and Dolly would pull them off, one by one, taking out hair with them. It hurt, a lot, and Hermione's eyes watered every time, but she refused to protest. She would listen to her mentors carefully. Like Raeden said, no pain, no gain.

"One more on the legs," Dolly said in her high voice. Hermione grimaced and heard the rip as the final bits of hair were ripped off of her legs.

"Is that it?" Hermione asked wearily.

Dolly pushed her glasses up a little higher on her head and lifted up Hermione's arms as if she were a rag doll. "We'll need to work on your arms. And then, of course, your eyebrows." Hermione lifted her other hand up to her face, stroking her fingers over her eyebrows.

Then she remembered– no complaints.

Hermione sighed and nodded her head, settling down once more on her special bed. From the corner of her eye she saw Dolly smile as she prepared the wax. Hermione couldn't help but smile herself.

Meanwhile, Spring was studying Hermione's hair, holding it in her smooth hands with her long, manicured forest green nails. "It's so thick!" she kept exclaiming, grabbing curls now and then and coiling them around her fingers.

Hermione winced as more hair was ripped off her arms, and her eyes began to water once again as Dolly plucked hair between her eyebrows.

"We're going to shape them now," Dolly said, getting out a few more instruments. "Oh, this is so exciting!"

Spring and Dolly eagerly chattered away about tributes and their designs. Saffron added in things now and then, but remained focused on Hermione's nails. "Dear Merlin, these nails are filthy!" She exclaimed.

Spring peered over at them. "Don't you just wish you could clean them with magic?"

"Oh, definitely."Saffron agreed fervently.

"Why can't you?"Hermione asked frowning.

"Don't frown, don't frown!" Dolly shrieked, and Hermione immediately relaxed her brows.

"Calm down Dolly," Saffron said soothingly, then turned to Hermione. "She's crazy, this one. Most of the time, she's all cool and casual, but when it comes to her job..." She then paused, remembering why Dolly had suddenly exclaimed. "Anyway, we can't use magic around tributes because we can't give them any tips on spells. If I did a cleaning charm on you, for example, you'd know what it is, and that would give you an advantage in the games. You have to learn it yourself."

"Ah," Hermione said, careful not to show too much expression on her face. "I see."

After Dolly was finished, Hermione's skin felt more vulnerable, painful and smooth than it ever had. All the hair on her legs, arms and underarms was completely gone, and half of the hair on her face had vanished. The only hair that remained was her eyebrows and the hair on top of her head. Dolly moved aside and Spring peered down at Hermione, bright blue eyes beaming.

"Okay!" she chirped. "Your hair..." she paused. "It's really, really thick."

Hermione laughed. "I know."

"It's super bushy. So, I'm going to wash it, trim it a little and use some styling potion to make it shiny but keep in your curls, because they're gorgeous. We're just going to tone done the frizz and bush. Does that sound good?"

Hermione smiled at Spring, glad that her opinion was being considered. "That sounds lovely, thank you, Spring."

Spring beamed back at her and looked at the others. "We've got a nice one this year!" she exclaimed, moving the bed over to the sink and guiding Hermione's head back towards it.

"Are they not always nice?" Hermione asked as Spring began to wet her hair.

"No, not always."Saffron said, moving over to join them and beginning to file Hermione's nails. "Like last year, for instance, the girl from 4."

"Oh, gosh!" Spring exclaimed, her brown hair falling over her shoulders and into her face as she looked up at her teammates. "She was _awful!_"

"Kept whining and protesting. Then, she had the nerve to say that we did a horrible job and that she now looked hideous!"

A crease appeared between Hermione's eyebrows as tried to remember the girl from district 4."Lacey?" Hermione asked. "I thought she was one of the best-looking in the whole games." This was the truth. Lacey had a natural look, rather than the typical look of contenders that made them look fake. So many other prep teams treated their tribute as some life-size doll, but Hermione felt as if her team knew she was a real human being, and that they could sense what she'd like and what she didn't like. Then again, they didn't seem to understand what Lacey wanted...

_Oh well_, Hermione thought. _It doesn't matter __whether __I like it or not. These three know what the Capitol likes, and that's what's important. Besides, looks are going to be the least of my worries once I'm in the games._

Spring smiled down at her. "I just love her already!" she said to the others, and began to scrub deep into the hair with her special shampoo.

"Does Eyvy want plain nails?" Saffron asked, looking up at Dolly and Spring.

"Yes, she said 'keep her as plain and normal as you can'." Dolly told her. "She said we'll work from there. Natural beauty is what we're aiming for."

Hermione was grateful at Eyvy, who she assumed was her stylist. Natural, normal and plain sounded perfect for her.

Spring quickly finished washing her hair and afterwards, Hermione's brown locks smelled beautifully of fresh blueberries. The prep team oohed and ahhed over that smell for a few minutes before finally getting back to business.

Hermione had to admit that even though at the beginning, she thought she was dealing with some annoying, high-pitched, squealing air-heads, but these girls were actually really nice and knew what they were doing. Once they were done with her, Hermione could honestly say that she looked really good.

It was exactly the way she'd wanted herself to look. When she was younger, she would watch as girls would flip their straight, tame hair over their shoulders as they flashed beautiful smiles at passing boys. She would envy them for their looks and wish she could look as pretty as them – she'd wish for controllable, manageable hair and a pretty but subtle face, she'd wish for that exquisite natural beauty that everyone but her seemed to have.

Now, Hermione's bushy hair had softened and dropped down in bouncy curls and pretty waves. Her eyes stood out more than ever and her eyebrows were delicate and fine without making her look like a fool. Her skin was soft and smooth, having been moisturised by Dolly. Saffron had cut and cleaned Hermione's nails, painting a glossy shiny protective coat on them. Hermione surveyed herself at the mirror, smiling at how she looked – she felt like a better version of herself. It was like they'd brought out the best in her without changing her. It was a wonderful feeling.

"Thank you." She said to them, and they smiled at their handiwork.

"You're all ready for Eyvy." Saffron said happily. "She's really nice – you'll love her."

"Good luck!" Spring said excitedly as they hurried out of the room.

A few moments after they left, a young woman with long, silvery-blond hair entered. Her eyes were a pale grey and she had silver eye shadow on top of her eye lids. Her skin was the colour of snow and she came into the room with an air of quiet confidence. She looked almost like an angel.

Hermione waited for her to say something.

"Hi," the woman said softly. "I'm Eyvy, your stylist. It's a pleasure to meet you Hermione."

Hermione shook her extended hand, not saying anything, almost afraid to.

"Don't be nervous."Eyvy said, chuckling. "I don't bite."

Hermione gave a nervous laugh.

"I know you're not happy about being here." Eyvy told her. "I understand."

"But people from your world find it entertainment." Hermione said, slightly scathingly, as she tended to whenever she spoke of the Capitol.

"We're not all like that, you know." Eyvy said, coming closer to her. "In fact, I consider it barbaric, as I'm sure you do."

Hermione said nothing, because Eyvy was right.

"Anyway, I'm here to make sure you look presentable to the Capitol." Eyvy explained. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you make a lasting impression, because you need to be remembered."

Hermione nodded. "I'm nothing special though, it'll be awfully difficult."

"You're a natural beauty and I want to keep it that way. I want you to look stunning but not in an obvious way. District 1, for example, always go out of their way to look the best, and whilst it dazzles the Capitol, there's nothing subtle about it, which makes it look tacky to some."

"But aren't we trying to get the Capitol to like us?" Hermione asked.

"Not just them. We need to appeal to everyone else in Panem. It's why I need to make you look beautiful in everyone's eyes." Eyvy looked Hermione up and down. "I don't think we'll have too much trouble." She smiled. "Go put your robe back on, let's chat."

Hermione quickly grabbed her robe and wrapped it around herself. She tied it quickly, feeling cold and embarrassed and then followed her stylist into the sitting room next to them.

Eyvy gestured for her to take a seat in a royal blue armchair. Hermione sighed as she sat down, now able to relax for a moment. Eyvy smiled at her again. "You've had a long day. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." She leaned forward in her seat and pressed a button. Some delicious salad rolls pop up from the table. Hermione's eyes widened. "Help yourself." Eyvy told her, and Hermione carefully took a roll and began to eat it.

"Now," Eyvy said conversationally, "Hermione, as you know, opening ceremonies are very important. It's the first time the Capitol sees you in person, and first impressions count."

Hermione nodded.

"Districts have to be dressed up in something to do with their home." Eyvy explained. "There needs to be an essence of that district in their design."

"... you're going to dress me up as a robot, aren't you?" Hermione asked. "Every year they dress us up like robots and—"

"Do you see that I'm not an average stylist?" Eyvy asked, an amused smile etched on her face. "I'm different, and I want you to be different with me."

Hermione glanced down at the ground. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. It's fine." Eyvy said. "Anyway, no, you and Ernie won't be dressed up as robots." She paused. "What Florence and I—that's Ernie's stylist, by the way – were thinking is a very interesting jump suit that has a little twist."

Hermione frowned. "How? What kind of twist?"

Eyvy's smile turned into a grin. "You'll see in a moment."

"Do you think this will work?" Ernie asked her as the stylists ran around adding finishing touches.

"I'm just hoping we're not going to look like skeletons." Hermione said. "Otherwise... we'll look dead..."

Ernie chuckled. "Yes, let's hope we don't look like that. We're sending out the wrong message."

Hermione grinned. _We_.

"Don't worry, you two." Eyvy said. "I'm sure this will work, and it will look _spectacular_."

"Ernie, your shoelaces are untied, can you fix them?" Florence crie d.

Ernie quickly kneeled down and tied his shoelaces. Hermione looked around them at all the commotion. They were currently in their special jumpsuits, completely black. The fabric was really thick and Hermione had a feeling there was something inside it - something that would contribute to the outfit, that special something that would make this costume extra special.

"Are you ready?"Florence asked them.

Ernie and Hermione exchanged a quick look and nodded at their stylists. "Ready." They both replied.

Eyvy and Florence came closer to their tributes and took out a little button that was attacked to the jumpsuit, hidden in its pocket. They murmured "one, two, three" together and simultaneously pressed the button.

Hermione gasped as she was bathed in a lovely green glow. It seemed like wires were coiled around the black jumpsuit and were now glowing beautifully, making not just represent technology but be technology. As she moved the light followed her, floating gracefully in the air much like glow sticks did when she waved them back at home in District 3.

"It works!" Florence exclaimed, jumping up excitedly and hugging a member of her prep team.

"It'll make you look a lot faster, and the effect will be amazing." Eyvy said, smiling proudly.

Ernie surveyed himself from the front and back, peering over his shoulder. "Imagine how we'll look on the chariot. This is brilliant!"

Hermione smiled, feeling excited all of a sudden. They were going to stand on the back of a chariot and ride past the people of the Capitol to the City Circle as part of the opening ceremony. From there, they would be greeted, the anthem would play then they would be officially welcomed to the Training Centre. Everyone would be dressed in different costumes representing their district, and Hermione was certain that Ernie's and her costumes would be one of the best, if not _the _best.

Colin and Lysabelle quickly came up to them.

"Wow, you two look wonderful!" Lysabelle said, looking genuinely impressed.

Colin, too, paused to admire them, but only for a moment. "This is very important – acknowledge each other during the ride. Hold hands, talk, communicate, whatever. Don't ignore each other."

Hermione and Ernie nodded. She didn't know Ernie very well, but if Colin and Lysabelle told her to do it, she would do it, whatever it took. She wanted to win, or die trying. She would not give up.

Florence quickly ran up to them. "Come on, now, quickly! Let's go!"

Ernie and Hermione were speedily rushed out of the entrance of the Training Centre towards their chariot. The cool air was crisp and fresh, attacking every part of their exposed skin. Hermione was grateful they were wearing such thick jumpsuits.

They made their way to the official start of the ride. They were to be third, so they could only appreciate District 1 and 2's costumes, and then at the end of the ride they could watch as the other districts arrived and admire their costumes as they rode in.

District 1, Hermione had to admit, did look quite nice. However, she now completely understood what Eyvy was saying about them: they were trying much too hard, and did look tacky. District 1's industry was luxury items for the Capitol, which was why they were always a crowd favourite – especially adorned in dazzling get-ups that put smiles on everyone's faces.

This year, the male and female were dressed in gold. The boy, Dragon or Draco or whatever his name was, was in a gold tuxedo which should've clashed with his white-blonde hair, but didn't, and would make him look much more impressive to the Capitol. The girl wore a matching gold dress with simple straps at the top. Hermione felt sorry for her– it must be freezing for that girl. Her blonde hair was curled in a messy yet pretty way – the way a celebrity would look.

Hermione only hoped that the Capitol would be more impressed by her get-up than District 1's. Ernie seemed to agree with her remark that the first district did seem to be trying too hard, but who knew if the Capitol would see that?

The ceremony began, and District 1 began to ride through the village streets. Hermione could hear the enormous roar of the crowd at the sight of their favourites. She swallowed nervously.

"Don't worry," Ernie said, grasping her hand. "We're better than them."

Hermione smiled at him and held his hand tighter. "All right," she spoke. "Interaction, communication, smile, be happy, confident."

Ernie chuckled. "That's it. Ready?" They were next. District 2 had just started riding.

Hermione nodded. "Let's do this!" she said.

The chariot moved forward towards the starting line. Hermione heard a countdown from three and suddenly, they were whisked further forward and into the packed streets, all eyes upon them.

_Chapter 4 will be up soon! Thanks for reading!_


	4. The Ceremony

_I was meaning to get this up sooner than this. Unfortunately, I've come to a halt in my writing. I'm writing the chapters after this one, currently on 10, and I'm stuck. I'm up to the middle which is a problem for me, because I know how the story starts and how it ends, but can't fill in the space between. Therefore, I'm writing much slower than I usually do. If I don't spread out my updates, there will be even longer waits for chapters. So I'm sorry if the next chapter isn't up as soon as I usually post them. It should definitely be up in a week - I don't like it when readers have to wait longer than that for an update._

_As always, thank you for your reviews. They truely mean a lot. (:_

_Once again, thank you to Sophie for her editing, and J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins for giving us these two worlds._

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 4: The Ceremony_

The lights were blinding, the roars of the crowd deafening. The moment they saw District 3, the Capitol citizens erupted in cheer. Hermione grinned and automatically glanced over at Ernie, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. He was smiling back at her, looking like he was having the time of his life as the chariot raced them around the city and past the eager, excited people in the crowd.

"What do we do?"Hermione shouted, feeling so stunned she wasn't sure what was supposed to happen.

"Interact!" Ernie cried, waving his arm happily in the direction of the crowd. "Not just with me, but the crowd."

Hermione shakily let go of the railing on the chariot, gripping onto Ernie with her other hand for support and raised her hand up at the crowd. Their cheers seemed to increase as she did so. Hermione waved her hand from side to side and gasped – she'd completely forgotten about the green glow. As she waved, the lights caused the air to fill with beautiful green, moving gracefully with her. She saw herself on the television screen above the crowd and had to admit – she looked beautiful. Her curly hair was flying behind her wildly and the beautiful green lights illuminated her face in a magnificent way. She felt truly magical.

Everyone had huge smiled on their faces as they watched Ernie and Hermione fly past. She was beaming, relishing the feeling of being adored. Sponsors. _This is it,_ she thought, _these people could very well sponsor me._

They rolled into the City Circle, circling around to face the entrance and then coming to a halt. Hermione listened as the crowd continued to cheer, mesmerised by this magnificent ceremony. She watched carefully as the other districts came into the circle and she laid eyes on her competition for the first time.

District 6 was the first to really grab her attention. The boy, Callum, looked nervous but at the same time happy. His blond hair was wavy and kept flying into his eyes as he waved at the people he passed. The girl next to him was much older – Hermione had a feeling she was 18 – and she didn't look nervous at all. Perhaps she was saving her fear for the arena, or perhaps she didn't think there was anything to be scared about at all.

Then came District 7, and Hermione's eyes immediately fell upon Harry Potter and his lightning scar. His green eyes were startling, and they seemed to be the same shade as her green light. Both of the tributes from District 7 looked fierce as they stood firmly like true heroes. Hermione felt almost silly compared to them, and Hermione was not one to be silly.

From the reaping videos, Hermione had been nervous about the boy from 9, but when she saw him in person, she didn't feel too intimidated by him. He looked skinnier and scrawnier, but not like Harry. Harry seemed strong despite his physical appearance, but this boy, Terence, she thought his name was, did not look like much competition.

At that moment, Hermione began to wonder what she looked like to the other competitors. She straightened up, trying to look strong and capable just like them. She hoped everyone knew she was one to watch out for. She didn't want to be disregarded.

Then District 10 appeared and Hermione saw Ronald Weasley, the boy who for some unknown reason intrigued her, for the first time. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to where the chariot was taking them. He was saying something and laughing with his female tribute – a thirteen year old girl with blond pigtails. They were dressed in silly cow costumes with bells that rang as they moved, but the crowd still adored them.

Hermione leaned over to Ernie, still watching Ronald and the girl carefully. "They really interacted." Hermione told him. "Everyone loved them because they communicated and presented themselves as a team."

Ernie nodded. "Yes, I see." He glanced over at her. "We did interact but... compared to them it was practically nothing."

Hermione slowly nodded her head in understanding. "They look like really good friends. I wonder... I wonder how they must feel."

At that moment, Ronald glanced up and his eyes met Hermione's. Hermione quickly looked away, not one to be caught staring, yet still found herself thinking of those blue eyes staring at hers.

As District 12 rolled in Hermione gathered up the courage to take another look at Ronald. She found him watching her in return. Her eyes widened slightly but this time she didn't look away, and instead gave him a small smile. He gave her a shy one in return and before Hermione could figure out where to go from there the cheering suddenly stopped and Hermione had to look up to see what was happening.

The City Circle was right in front of the president's mansion, and every year the president gave a welcoming speech to the tributes. As Hermione looked up she saw the president walking closer and closer to the edge of his balcony to address his people. Hermione tried to not show her utter contempt for him.

He was a tall man, thin and slim. He had dark hair swept to the side of his forehead. He smiled a charming, alluring smile at the crowd, relishing his position, and began to speak.

Hermione listened as President Riddle told of the history of the Hunger Games and how it had brought them to this. As she did, she also watched the television screen next to the mansion that showed what was being televised across the nation. She noticed how District 3 and 10 were getting quite a bit of camera time. She and Ernie looked quite magnificent in their glowing get-ups, but Ronald and the young girl looked friendlier and closer, showing a special kind of friendship in their interaction with each other. It fascinated the Capitol, and she could see why –it fascinated her just as much.

President Riddle finished his speech and the anthem began to play. As the chariots began to make their way towards the Training Centre, Hermione noticed the camera linger on her and Ernie a little longer than everybody else. However, District 10 did get their fair share of time also, and during that moment, Hermione noticed something very interesting.

Ronald was looking in her direction, a small smile still on his face.

The moment the chariot rolled inside the Training Centre the prep team was all over them. They were shrieking, cheering, exclaiming, jabbering away excitedly, applauding Hermione and Ernie for their success. Eyvy and Florence also looked immensely proud.

"Well done!" Eyvy said and Hermione pulled away from Spring to face her stylist.

"Thank you," Ernie replied, beaming widely, the adrenalin from the ride clearly still lingering within him.

Florence nodded, wrapping one arm around Ernie's shoulders. "Yes, you did wonderfully!" she exclaimed, giving him a small squeeze. He looked a little uncomfortable but also thrilled.

"District 10 did better though." Hermione pointed out, knowing she was crushing the wonderfully warm atmosphere, but needing to state it.

Eyvy hesitated for a moment. "You both did equally well." She said.

Ernie and Hermione both looked doubtfully at her and Florence.

"You did!" Florence insisted. "It was even – they looked utterly ridiculous, everyone thought that, but their interaction with each other was so charming that everyone fell under the spell, so to speak." She gestured at Ernie and Hermione. "You two did interact with each other, but not to the extent that Ronald and Lizzie did, and not with the same dynamic, however, you did look better – if I don't say so myself, you had the best costumes of anyone."

"We did." Hermione said, smiling proudly. "It was all thanks to you."

"Thank you."Florence and Eyvy replied.

"I think that Ernie and Hermione have a bit more of an advantage than Ronald and Lizzie, actually."Eyvy said. Everybody turned to her, the prep teams also paying attention, curious about Ernie and Hermione's extra advantage. "You and Ernie had both interaction with each other and stunning costumes. District 10, however, only had the interaction, which, whilst I admit did beat yours, but they lacked in their costumes, and I think that pulled them down. Everyone was mesmerised with your costumes, which is exactly what Florence and I wanted."

"It worked."Hermione said, glancing down at her jumpsuit, which was still glowing. Today was the first time in her life she'd felt truly beautiful. She'd always known looks weren't important, and she'd always believed so, but in the Capitol, in the Hunger Games, they were quite important, and whilst she'd never paid attention to her looks before, she rather liked the feeling of making heads turn... and making Ronald Weasley smile.

_Stop it, Hermione Granger. You don't even know him and he's your competition. Focus._

They approached the lift once more, waiting as it came down after carrying District 6 up. The stylists and prep team quickly scurried in, their high heels clicking as they did. Hermione and Ernie looked at each other, trying not to laugh. High heels weren't common in District 3 – everyone there knew how uncomfortable and bad they were for the feet and back. It was also difficult to work in them –District 3 did a lot of hands on work, constructing and making new inventions.

They began to soar above the city and it looked breathtaking. Hermione sighed, adoring the view. The lift ride ended too soon. She vowed that after dinner she'd go and take a look from the rooftop.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Hermione and Ernie were quickly congratulated by Raeden, Colin and Lysabelle.

"Well done!" they all said in unison, and Lysabelle and Colin raced forward to hug their protégés.

They all extended their compliments to each other, feeling proud and happy at Ernie's and Hermione's successes.

"All right, then."Raeden said, breaking them up. "Let's let you take a look at your rooms. You didn't really get to see much of this place earlier today, did you?"

Everyone chuckled and Hermione and Ernie straightened up, looking forward to seeing their rooms –the places they'd be staying in for this week.

Colin, Lysabelle and the stylists and prep team bade them farewell, promising to meet them for dinner later on. Hermione and Ernie were left with Raeden as their guide.

"All right," Raeden repeated, straightening up and looking pleased at being in charge. "Hermione's room is closest, so we'll take her there first."

They were led down the corridor, this time able to look around instead of rushing into the styling rooms. Hermione noticed how this corridor had moving pictures of famous moments that happened in the Hunger Games to District 3 tributes. Some of them were funny, some touching, others painful, others triumphant. Hermione noticed a picture of Lysabelle waving her wand wildly whilst on the back of a dragon. Hermione was eight years old when she watched Lysabelle win the Hunger Games, but she could still remember that moment. The outdoor arena had been transformed into a giant jungle-island, where dragons roamed the land. Lysabelle had managed to control the dragons into doing her will. She'd done brilliantly.

"Look at that!"Ernie said, pausing at another picture. In it, a young Colin was waving his wand at an unknown object, looking strong and determined as he shouted out an incantation. A bright light shot out of his wand and soared past the camera into the unknown. From this picture it was obvious Colin was a skilled wizard.

"He was very good at magic." Hermione remarked. Ernie and Raeden turned to look at her, looking a little stunned. "I read about it _Victors: Past and Present_."

Raeden chuckled. She then rolled her eyes, also amused, and resumed her walk. "Come on, where is this room?"

Raeden chuckled again and ran over to her. "Up ahead, the one on the right."

Hermione turned to face the door and Raeden stepped around her, turning it slowly.

She gasped as she entered the room. It was done in white and looked large, beautiful and comfortable. The bed itself looked almost as big as her entire room back in District 3, and Hermione wondered why anyone would need so much space on their mattress. There was a bookshelf in one corner of the room, standing next to two sliding doors that were currently closed. The bookshelf not only had fiction books, but also some sculptures, candles, and other various decorations. Before Hermione could voice her wonder, Raeden spoke.

"There's a remote on the bedside table that will open your wardrobe and bathroom." He pointed to the two closed doors. "Just press it and you'll see." Hermione took a step forward into the room. "There you go," he said, sounding amused. "Make yourself at home; just be ready for dinner in an hour." Hermione nodded and he gently closed the door behind him.

She wandered over to the bedside table, grabbing hold of the remote. It only had a few buttons. Several were for the television in the corner of the room, another was for lights, and two of them were for the doors in front of her. She glanced down at it and chose to press the 'open wardrobe' button.

Slowly the door on the left began to open and Hermione's eyes widened as she saw what was inside. On either side were many clothes and shoes, enough for three families to wear back in District 3. There was a computer there too, one that helped sort through the many clothes and select what you wanted. Hermione pressed a few buttons on the touch screen and got herself a plain long-sleeve top, jumper and jeans.

She exited the walk-in wardrobe and pressed 'open bathroom'. The door adjacent to the wardrobe's opened, revealing a huge ensuite bathroom. The shower was large and had many functions – temperature control, shampoo selection, body lotion, the water's strength. There was also a bathtub that was extremely inviting, but Hermione felt that she didn't have enough time to have a bubble bath.

Instead, she had a quick shower and then got changed into the clothes she'd selected earlier. She put her green jumpsuit carefully into the wardrobe, noticing how the computer lit up letting her know she now had it in her possession. Instead of blow-drying her hair as usual and trying to control its frizz, Hermione instead put her head under a machine and let it immediately dry and untangle her hair, causing it to fall gracefully and gently down around her shoulders. It was amazing what her district had come up with, and seeing it all in use was truly wonderful. She just wished everyone was able to use this.

By the time she'd finished that it was time for her to head down to dinner.

Once again she was one of the first to arrive to dinner. This time, Raeden and Colin were already sitting, but no one else was present.

"Ah, Hermione, early as usual." Raeden commented.

Hermione sat down at the table. "Who else will be joining us?"

"Ernie and Lysabelle, obviously, and also the stylists and prep team." Raeden told her.

Hermione brightened at this. "Oh, wonderful!" She really liked the stylists and prep team.

They all arrived promptly at seven thirty. They all settled into their seats quietly, except for Eyvy's prep team, who were still jabbering away excitedly.

As some small talk begun around them, a man in a red suit came into the room holding a shining silver tray. Wine glasses stood proudly on the tray, sparkling from the light above them all.

"Wine, anyone?" Raeden asked, gesturing for the man to step further forward. Hermione frowned and watched as the man obediently came over to Raeden and offered the tray to him. Raeden picked up a glass and took a sip, ignoring the man altogether. He noticed Hermione's face and looked confused. "You don't want any wine?"

Hermione, a little unsure of what was going on, paused. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I don't drink alcohol."

Raeden shrugged, as if saying _suit yourself_, and looked at Ernie, "How about you Ernie?"

Ernie looked a little bewildered, almost confused at the fact that he was being offered wine, but eventually answered, "Yes, all right, I'll give it a go."

Hermione's frown increased further as Ernie, Lysabelle and Colin all got themselves some wine. Eyvy and Florence followed, whilst the prep teams said no, all happily sipping soft drink.

The man left and Hermione watched him as he walked. After he was out of ear shot she turned back to Raeden.

"What was that?" she asked accusingly.

Raeden glanced up at her, confused. "What was what?" he asked after a moment.

"How could you treat him like he was nothing more than dirt?" she asked. Everyone at the table stopped their chatter to stareat her. Hermione ignored them. "Who was he?"

"He's an Avox." Eyvy said, also looking confused at Hermione's anger.

"He's a what?"Hermione asked.

"Someone who has committed a crime." Colin explained."They're punished by being forced to be slaves, without a voice, for the rest of their lives."

"Without a voi—" Hermione began, and suddenly realised something. _Vox _was Latin for 'voice'. Mr. Bogs had explained it to her when teaching her a spell. _A_... she knew _a_ was a Greek prefix meaning 'without'. "You mean they're forbidden to speak? Ever?"

"Well," Lysabelle began. "Even if they wanted to, they couldn't."

Hermione's frown increased. "What do you mean?"

"An Avox's tongue has been cut off."Raeden said casually, taking another sip of wine.

Hermione was so stunned by this revelation that she had to take a few moments to calm herself. "Cut off?" she exclaimed. "That's completely barbaric!"

"I'm sure that they deserve that punishment, Hermione." Lysabelle said, trying to calm her.

"No one deserves to have their tongue cut off! Or forced into slavery!" Hermione said. "Everyone should have the freedom to say what they want and do what they want!" She took in a deep breath to calm herself. "What sort of crime would they have to do to become an Avox?"

Colin spoke up. "Ah, yes, that reminds me. Over the next few days you'll be taught about different kinds of spells. There are three, however, that are banned from the arena. Unforgivable Curses, they're called. You cast any of them, you're disqualified from the games and become an Avox."

Hermione's anger had receded slightly, curiosity beginning to grow. "What ones?" she asked in a dignified manner.

"There's the Imperius Curse, which makes the victim do anything the caster asks it to. There's the Cruciatus, which causes pain for the victim so terrifying some have gone mad from it. The last one is the killing curse, which is pretty self-explanatory."

Hermione remembered Mr. Bogs mentioning of their existence, but refused to speak any more of them. "These are banned because it won't be interesting television to have everyone killed with a wave of their wand?" Hermione asked.

Raeden nodded, looking relieved that Hermione was no longer mad at him, or at least calm enough to speak civilly. "Yes, that's right."

The rest of dinner went by uneventfully. After the initial awkwardness faded away, everyone began to talk about District 3's success and the upcoming training. A few times, when Avoxes came out, Hermione had to be careful not to cause another scene, and was grateful when dinner was over. Instead of heading straight to her room, Hermione decided to go up to the roof.

The view of the Capitol at night was glorious and Hermione looked out longingly through the glass walls of the lift as she rose higher and higher into the air. Once the lift came up to the roof, Hermione stepped out and shivered at the cold that hit her. A small wind was blowing, adding to the cold, and Hermione crossed her arms to warm herself.

Hermione walked up to the edge of the roof, a small wall being the barrier between her and death. She didn't plan on jumping though. She simply leaned against the wall and looked over it, admiring the city below her. If she hadn't known about how cruel and sick these people were, she would have wanted to live there.

"Oh," someone said, and Hermione spun around quickly, finding herself facing Harry Potter. "Sorry."He said, looking awkward. "I'll just... I'll leave and come back later." He pushed his glasses up higher upon his nose.

Hermione shook her head. "No, don't worry about it, it's fine. You can stay."

Harry smiled nervously and walked over to the barrier, joining her. They stayed in silence until Hermione couldn't bear it anymore.

"I suppose you wanted to see the Capitol from up here?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I guess. I don't really know. I just wanted to see what things looked like. I kind of like exploring."

Hermione nodded, continuing to watch the city nightlife. She wanted to say something, desperately – Harry seemed like a rather nice boy, one that could potentially be her friend.

_You're going to be killing each other, Hermione_.

She ignored this and straightened up. "I'm Hermione Granger." She extended her hand to him.

Harry looked a little confused at the offer, but shook her hand anyway. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Hermione nodded, giving him a small smile. He returned it and turned away to look at the city once more.

"I wonder why there haven't been any attempts to jump." He mused.

Hermione frowned and gave him a sideways glance. "What?"

"Jump off the edge."He explained. "Off the barrier. Down... there."

Hermione looked down at the cool stone wall. "That's a nice topic of conversation." She murmured.

Harry laughed uncomfortably. "Sorry." He said simply.

After a moment's silence, Hermione answered, "They can't."

Harry turned to look at her. "Sorry?"

"They can't. They can't jump. Even if they wanted to, a tribute wouldn't be able to jump off here." Hermione explained.

Harry frowned. "How do you know?"

"It's common sense." Hermione explained. "The Capitol want things to be exciting in the Hunger Games. They want entertainment. If half of the tributes chose to jump off the roof before the games had even started... they're not really getting any excitement or entertainment, are they?"

"Guess not." Harry said, nodding his head. "Makes sense. But how do you know there isn't something?"

Hermione shrugged."I haven't tested it out, but it makes sense that they'd have a precaution. A force field, of some sort."

Harry looked surprised. "You seem really smart."

Hermione smiled."It's nothing."

"I guess you're going to be big competition in all this, then." Harry said.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I haven't ruled myself out." And for the first time, she truly, honestly believed it. She really did stand a chance.

"Nor have I." Harry said. Hermione turned to look at him. "I haven't ruled you out of this, I mean." He clarified.

Hermione let out a soft laugh. "Well, thank you." She said. "I haven't ruled you out either."

"You did well in the ceremony, though." Harry said, turning to look down at the streets they'd been riding in only a few hours ago. "Everyone loved you two. You're going to get a lot of sponsors."

Hermione sighed."One can hope."

Harry chuckled. "You don't need to worry about that."

"Thanks." Hermione said quietly.

A comfortable silence filled the air, and the logical part of Hermione's brain realised that this was not good. She was becoming friends with Harry Potter. This was not good. How was she meant to kill him if she liked him?

She straightened up again, rolling her shoulders back. "It's getting cold and late. I'd better go."

Without even waiting for a reply she began to walk away from Harry Potter. "I'll see you tomorrow!"She called out as the doors to the lift opened and she walked through them.

Once she came back to her room, she collapsed on her bed.

First Ernie, now Harry.

She was getting swayed too easily by the desire to make friends. She couldn't help it that Ernie and Harry were nice people, but she _could _help the amount of interaction she had with them. She had to make sure that she didn't get any closer to them. If she did... all her chances of winning this competition would slip dramatically.

And she'd be spending time with all the other tributes for the next few days... alliances would be formed, she'd be in a position to talk to everyone... she'd get to know everyone much better... including the young children, who were terrified and had no idea what they were going to do.

How would she be able to look them in the eye, knowing that she'd have to kill them to survive?


	5. Training

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 5 - Training_

The next morning the sun was bright as usual. The sky was cloudless and blue, and Hermione wished she could grab a book, run outside into the sunlight and read under a large tree. She couldn't do that though, not today. Today was the first day of training and she had to make the most of it.

Hermione felt like she was getting back into her usual routine. She'd woken up early, like she used to, and quickly washed up and brushed her teeth, then put on comfortable attire before going down to breakfast, just like she used to back in District 3.

Breakfast, however, was very different to her usual meals back home. The table was covered with all kinds of foods that made one's mouth water. Ernie and Hermione quickly dug in, relishing the delectable taste of pancakes, fruits and jams.

"Okay, you two." Colin and Lysabelle began, leaning against the table once more.

"Today's a big day," Colin said.

"And as much as you'd like to run off by yourselves and show off –"

"I don't—" Both Ernie and Hermione started to say.

"You won't." Colin and Lysabelle said, and Hermione was amazed at how in sync they were. It was as if they were twins.

"You've got to stick with each other." Lysabelle said. "This is very important. You're up against some tough competition – you need to intimidate them with your co-operation, your friendship."

Hermione gulped. _Yes, Ernie and I are friends, aren't we?_

"This is why," Colin began, "you've got to walk around together, learn together, talk to each other, laugh with each other."

Hermione noticed Ernie quickly cast a sideways look at her, then glance back up at their two mentors. "That sounds nice and all, but we've already tried the friendly partnership tactic, and it hasn't worked – look at District 10, Lizzie and Rupert—"

"Ronald," Hermione interjected reflexively, and her eyes quickly widened. _Oh, dear, this is not good_... she didn't even _know _Ronald and already she was acting as if she were smitten.

Everyone seemed to ignore this, and Ernie continued. "Oh, pish posh," he simply said in regards to Hermione's correction, "they've actually known each other really well before the games. They impressed more than we did. Why do we have to try again? It's useless."

"That kind of thinking will take you _straight_ out of the running to win." Lysabelle said, frowning.

"But Ernie's right—" Hermione began.

"We're your mentors." Colin said sternly. "We know what we're doing here. Now, do as we tell you to do."

Hermione glanced sideways at Ernie. He was looking back at her with a _what can we __do? _type of expression. Hermione shrugged back at him and said. "We'll just have to do it."

Hermione saw Colin and Lysabelle relax at this; it seemed to be an issue they were quite firm about. "Okay, now." Colin began, sweeping his brown hair out of his eyes with a swish of his hand. "We need to talk about what you'll be doing there during training."

Hermione straightened up, looking extremely attentive.

"Don't use that time to show off." Colin said to them. "You have to use the time you're given to learn something new."

Hermione nodded. That was what she'd been planning on doing anyway. She didn't want anyone to know her skills.

"This is extremely important." Lysabelle added. "You can't let anyone know your talents. Save that for your private session at the end of the training. You may want to show off, intimidate everyone, but don't. Use the time to learn and brush up on helpful survival skills you're not confident with."

This time Ernie nodded along with Hermione.

"When will we get to look at the spell books?" Hermione asked, knowing she looked quite eager.

"Throughout your training you can look at them, there will be a room next to the gymnasium with them." Colin said. "Take a look, read them, but don't spend all your time there. Trust us – spend time at the survival and weaponry stations too. Do not rely purely on your wand and some spells you've learnt in one week."

Hermione looked down at the table, trying not to give herself away.

"Now," Raeden said in an authoritative manner, clapping his hands together. Hermione had a feeling he missed talking and being in charge. "Now that we've got that sorted, it's time for you to start making your way down to the gymnasium."

Hermione took a deep breath and got up from the table. Her chair creaked as its legs scraped against the floor. She pushed it in, bid her farewells and thanked Colin and Lysabelle for their wishes and advice. Ernie did the same and they looked at each other nervously for a moment before making their way out of the dining room and towards the lift.

Once the lift doors had opened, Hermione noticed several other tributes already inside it. None of them were people she knew, though. One of them was a young girl with auburn hair tied into a long plait. She couldn't be older than fifteen. Another was a girl with dirty blonde hair who looked about fifteen too.

Hermione and Ernie quickly stepped into the elevator, and rode down it feeling slightly apprehensive. Hermione didn't even appreciate the lovely view the lift provided her.

The lift doors opened at level 1 and in stepped the District 1 tributes. The Draco boy was there, looking arrogant and confident as usual and there was the female, whose name Hermione couldn't remember.

The moment they saw Ernie and Hermione they frowned for a moment, before turning back to normal and beginning to chatter away amongst themselves. Hermione tried not to smile – it was obvious they were trying to get along and interact with each other to impress and intimidate like District 3 and 10 had evidently done.

The lift doors opened at the underground gymnasium and Hermione couldn't help but gasp as she entered it. Those around her did the same too.

The gymnasium was larger than Hermione's whole house. The walls were a dark metallic blue and along them were the many stations on offer. There were ropes, weapons, targets - anything one could think of. Trainers stood at stations, smiling at the several tributes already present.

The District 7 tributes were already there, and Hermione wanted to go over and talk to Harry, but did not for two reasons – firstly, she couldn't allow herself to get closer to him, no matter how much she wanted to be his friend, and secondly, she was with Ernie, and had to stick with him. It was for this reason when Harry gave her a smile, she simply smiled back and stayed in her spot.

"Which station do you think looks best?" Ernie asked her, and Hermione turned to look at him.

"I'm not sure." She answered truthfully. "I'd like to have a go at everything; there's so much to learn, and only five days to master it." Honestly, she was a little worried about that.

"How about we get a closer look and see what they have on offer, then make a decision?" Ernie suggested.

"That sounds good," Hermione answered, beginning to feel more excited about the possibility of learning. "Perhaps we tackle the tricky stations first, so we have more time to work on them, and then brush up on the skills we already have later on?"

Ernie nodded and quickly moved aside to allow the new batch of tributes to get off the lift. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of familiar red hair. She mentally scolded herself, but couldn't help give Ronald a small smile as he walked past her. Ronald gave her an adorable grin back but allowed himself to be pulled further forward by Lizzie.

After the final tributes came in, assistants quickly came forward to pin on district numbers on each tribute. Hermione lifted her arms up as a large blue _3_ was placed on her back.

"Welcome, everyone." A tall, well-built young woman said, brushing her short dark hair out of her eyes. "My name is Atlanta. Welcome to your training. For the next few days, you'll be able to train, work here and prepare yourselves for the upcoming Hunger Games."

Hermione was listening very carefully, concentrating on every word being uttered.

"Now, no doubt most of you will want to go straight into the library and learn spells." Atlanta said, eyeing everyone in the room. A few tributes exchanged small glances with their partner, making it obvious that that was the case. "I'd like to point out that survival skills and combat skills are just as important as anything, and that you should give them just as much attention as you want to give spell books."

Hermione didn't want to voice this to anyone, but that was exactly what she was intending on doing. If anything, she was going to focus more on the combat and survival aspect of the training than anything else – she knew spells, but she didn't know how to defend herself. She'd never been in the wilderness - there were hardly any trees in District 3, let alone wilderness. She wasn't going to be letting anyone know about that, though, obviously.

"Now," Atlanta continued. "You can learn the theory of spells over the next three days, but on Thursday, you'll be given your wand after lunch, be taken into your private training, and there you can test out your knowledge of spells on a test dummy. After that, your wand will be taken off you and you'll only be able to practise spells again on Friday."

_And then __on__ Saturday we'll have a day off, in the evening we'll be interviewed and then Sunday... we'll be thrown into the arena._

Atlanta then proceeded to go through the different stations offered. Hermione concentrated carefully, eyeing each station and the different tactics she could use at each one.

Finally, Atlanta was finished, and she concluded her explanation with a curt, "Off you go."

And suddenly everyone was running everywhere. Hermione let out a soft gasp as people accidentally ran into her in their haste. It seemed that most were still making their way to the library. Once everyone had managed to get to their desired destination, Hermione sadly realised that Ronald and Lizzie were two of those people; they were now gone.

Ernie, however, had stayed with Hermione, and was looking at her, waiting for her to suggest where they go.

"Perhaps the snares?" Hermione suggested.

They spent about an hour on snares, studying and learning how to make different kinds. There were simple kinds of snares, perfect for catching small animals to eat, and then there were more advanced kinds that Hermione knew she could use on people, tributes.

Ernie appeared to have a knack for this. He knew very well where to put what and worked enthusiastically at this station, even though they were the only ones there –snares didn't seem to be very popular in the training sessions. Hermione couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Ernie's sudden success, although her traps were not too bad either.

By the time they'd finished, Ernie wanted to go to the library. Hermione, though wanting to stay behind and learn other skills, knew she had to stick with Ernie, and it was rather unfair if she got to do all the picking and let him follow her around, his opinion disregarded. This was why she ended up in the library.

Hermione was quite impressed with the amount of books and quiet space on offer. Immediately, she felt drawn to this environment and she subconsciously smiled as she breathed in the musky, delightful scent of old books. Around seventeen tributes were in the library, studying diligently. A few of them were quietly murmuring the incantations, others waving imaginary wands, just like Hermione remembered doing back at home.

Hermione went over to the section with spell books and grabbed _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_. She decided she ought to start with the basics and work her way up, skipping books she'd already read.

Whilst reading about an interesting levitating charm, Hermione heard some giggling. Immediately, she looked up to see Lizzie laughing over something. Ronald seemed like he was trying to stifle a chuckle too. Hermione, rather than being annoyed, like she normally would be, simply ignored that spectacle, trying to hide a small smile.

_Oh, this is not good, Hermione. You've never even spoken to him and you're smiling at the fact he disrupts library peace!_

Hermione sighed, shook her head, and continued to read. She was nearly finished with the book when Ernie tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hermione," he said quietly. "Do you think we should go take a look around in the gymnasium again?"

Hermione nodded and closed her book, placing it carefully back on the shelf. They silently made their way across the large room and as they were approaching the door, Hermione heard Ronald speak for the first time.

"Uh, yeah, I think it's _leviosa,_" he was saying to Lizzie.

Hermione frowned. He had not pronounced the levitating charm incantation the way he was supposed to. Hermione had never attempted the spell, but Mr. Bogs had mentioned the spell to her and _leviosa _was pronounced le-vi-OH-sa.

Hermione looked at Ernie. "You go and find a station you like, I'll join you in a moment." Ernie nodded and hurried off, whilst Hermione turned around and walked up to Ronald and Lizzie.

"Uh, excuse me?" Hermione began, and Ronald and Lizzie glanced up at her, surprised that someone had approached them. Hermione couldn't help but notice the corners of Ronald's thin lips had turned upwards slightly.

"Yeah?" he asked, before clearing his throat.

"I believe you're pronouncing the levitating charm incorrectly,"Hermione said.

And just like that the beginnings of a smile had been wiped off his pale, freckled face. "How do you know?" he asked sharply.

Hermione was a bit affronted by this, but continued anyway – she was helping him, after all. "I've read the phonetic pronunciation." She lied, knowing she couldn't very well tell him that the spell had been explained to her a few months ago. "It's Win-_gar_-di-um Levi-_oh_-sa, not le-vi-oh-_sar_."

Ronald nodded slowly, trying to look appeasing –it was obvious to everyone, though, that he was annoyed. "Well, I'll keep that in mind." He replied curtly.

Hermione tried to stifle a scoff. He was so _rude_! She thought she'd said it nicely, to be perfectly honest, and she'd been trying to help him, something she'd never thought she'd do to a fellow tribute, and he'd rewarded her with obvious annoyance. "You're welcome." She said, just as curtly, and turned around, stalking off towards someone who _appreciated_ her advice.

As she was marching off, she heard Lizzie say, "Ron, you could've been nicer; she was only trying to help." Hermione didn't hear Ron's response though, as by then she'd walked out of the library and into the gymnasium once more.

Ernie had chosen the ropes station and was being taught how to tie strong knots. Again, the station they'd come to didn't seem to be a very popular one – once more they were the only ones present. Hermione did notice, however, that there seemed to be more people outside of the library. Evidently, people had become bored of books and wanted to do some fighting. Hermione could see a few boys comparing muscles whilst waiting for a turn at archery.

Hermione managed to learn how to tie some decent knots, which she knew would help her with making snares, and she felt that she'd done a good job at training today. By lunchtime she was starving and she and Ernie made their way to lunch chattering away excitedly over what they'd learnt.

Lunch was held in a room adjacent to the gymnasium, and Hermione noticed how the Career tributes were sitting together, looking exclusive and intimidating. Hermione knew they were all surveying each other, trying to determine who to gain as their ally. Alliances were often made during the training sessions as tributes watched each other perform. Unfortunately, alliances had to end eventually – in the end, there could only be one winner.

Ernie pointed out some spare seats, and Hermione was happy, although at the same time annoyed, that they were at the table Harry was already sitting on. She couldn't allow herself to get closer to him, even though he seemed like a very nice, friendly young man. Already, she couldn't bear the thought of his death, even if it wasn't at her hands.

Thankfully she was saved when Ron sat down next to Harry, taking their seat. Lizzie joined them, looking shy but happy. Harry and Ron, Hermione noticed, were very comfortable around each other, already laughing and talking as if they were old friends, even though Hermione was certain they hadn't even known each other that morning.

Ernie and Hermione decided to sit at a nearby table instead, by themselves.

_What could Harry possibly see in him?_ Hermione wondered as she looked on in disgust as Ronald stuffed himself, still talking with his mouth full of chicken. _He's a pig, and a rude one at that._

_So ignore him, and Harry, too. You said yourself that's what you want_.

Hermione looked away, mentally scowling at herself. _Focus, Hermione_.

Ernie seemed determined to impress everyone with his and Hermione's teamwork. He asked her many questions, attempting to engage her in conversation. Hermione politely answered every question, asking a few of her own, and laughing when necessary. It seemed to work – many tributes seemed intimidated and jealous of their co-operation. Hermione had a feeling that was exactly what Raeden, Lysabelle and Colin were hoping.

Eventually, the subject steered to spells they'd read. Hermione tried to look like she had no experience with spells – after all, she was only supposed to have held her first spell book a few hours ago. Ernie, however, didn't seem suspicious at all as they discussed spells and exchanged tips.

"I found the levitating charm quite useful. It'd lessen the amount of time it'd take to lift things to build shelter, and we'd be able to carry things with just a wave of the wand." Ernie said.

Hermione tried not to groan. She didn't want to hear about the stupid levitating charm ever again.

Instead, she put on a smile and nodded. "Yes, it is very useful. I'm just curious," she began loudly, hoping a certain red-head would overhear, "how would _you_ pronounce the levitating charm?"

Ernie looked a little confused but answered, "Win_gar_dium Levi_o_sa, isn't it?"

Hermione's smile widened. "Yes, I believe it _is_ Win_gar_dium Levi_o_sa!"

Ernie nodded in an appeasing manner, although he still seemed concerned for Hermione's welfare. Hermione was too. How could she have done that? How petty had she become? All because Ron Weasley had been annoyed at her correction.

"Sorry," she said earnestly to Ernie. "I was just checking."

Ernie seemed a bit calmer upon hearing that, and nodded once more. "All right." He shrugged.

No other dramas occurred that day.

After lunch, it was time to relax after long hours of training. Hermione wasn't particularly tired, because she'd only been crouched in a few different spots that day – she hadn't run around, nor had she fought vigorously. That day she'd simply learnt some traps and how to tie strong knots.

Yet she still allowed herself to lie on her large bed, her arms and legs spread out across the mattress and she heave several sighs.

What could Harry possibly see in that prat?

Hermione groaned as another thought entered her head – Ron Weasley. Why was she so preoccupied with him? He no longer had anything to with her... actually, he never had anything to do with her.

Hermione sat up and allowed herself to shake her head to shake out any unnecessary thoughts, namely of a certain redhead. She breathed in deeply to calm herself.

_All right_, she thought firmly. _As of this moment, I will not allow myself to cloud my bright mind with the stupidity that is __Ronald __Weasley_.

Hermione breathed a smile of satisfaction.

_There_.

Unfortunately, the plan did not go well – one simply cannot control what they think, as much as Hermione would like to. Throughout the second day, Hermione continued glancing around the training centre and glaring at Ron Weasley, trying to convince herself that she was not curious about what he was doing. It seemed that every time she found him, he'd be with Harry. They seemed inseparable, much like Lizzie and Ron seemed to be at the beginning.

_Hm, so he's ditched her? Typical. I'm not surprised._

And even though she'd vowed not to have anything to do with Ron Weasley or Harry Potter, Hermione had ended up pulling Ernie to have a go at weight lifting, which was exactly where Ron and Harry were.

Ernie didn't seem the wiser about Hermione's ulterior motives, although Hermione was positive she didn't have any. "Good idea," he said happily. "We'll need to become stronger for the games. It won't be much, as we only have two days, but it'll be good to have a go."

Hermione nodded in agreement whilst watching as Harry tried to lift up a large bag of sand. His glasses kept slipping as he fumbled, and Hermione noticed they were once again, slightly broken. He eventually managed to flip it over, but looked tired once he did so. He moved away quickly to let Ron have his go. Hermione stepped out of the line and approached Harry, even though part of her was telling her not to.

"Harry?" she asked tentatively.

Harry wiped his forehead with his sleeve and smiled at her. "Hermione, hi!"

Hermione allowed herself to admire how nice he was, as opposed to _some _people. "I see your glasses are broken," she commented.

Harry put his hand to his glasses and his green eyes widened. "Oh, yeah, I suppose they are again."

"I just thought I should tell you that there is a spell to fix them." She said. "It's called _reparo_. Once you get your wand, you should give the spell a go. Just make sure the _ar_ is nice and strong."

"Oh, bloody hell, you're not the only one who knows about spells." Ron Weasley said, flipping the bag over with ease. Hermione tried not to feel intimidated by his strength.

"I seem to be the only one who knows about manners." Hermione retorted, glaring at him.

"Manners?" Ron asked incredulously. "You strut up to me yesterday looking like my older brother Percy and without even a 'hi, how are you?' you criticise my spell work!"

"I was not _criticising_!"Hermione exclaimed. "I was trying to _help _you, actually, although I've got no idea why I even _bothered_!"

She turned away from both boys and pulled Ernie away from the weightlifting. "Come on, Ernie, who needs to know how to flip something over?"

As she walked away she heard Ron murmur to Harry, "Know-it-all, she is." She tried not to turn around and snap back at him, for tears were already stinging her eyes. She'd been so preoccupied by the words themselves that she'd barely noticed how his voice conveyed his uncertainty.

And for the rest of the day, Hermione did not give Ron the satisfaction of her tears, or her glares, or even the knowledge that he was present at training. She ignored him and Harry, instead focusing on learning as much as possible, determined not to succumb to all this drama. She actually managed to get a lot of work done, and read up on quite a bit. She'd skimmed through _Grade 2_ of _Standard Book of Spells_, brushing up on her knowledge, and began to devour _Grade 3_ before it was time to head to lunch.

Overall, it had been a productive day, and Hermione was proud of herself for carrying on despite her altercation with Ron. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, and fell asleep instantly.

The third and final day of physical training, Hermione made sure that she'd covered every station – some several times even. She made sure she knew all she could about traps. She made sure she understood how to tie knots. She made sure she knew how to camouflage herself without a disillusionment charm. She did not focus on her reading as much that day – she wanted to be certain that she understood every aspect of the physical, non-magical, training – however she did manage to finish reading _Grade 3_ carefully.

During that day, she'd discovered that the boy from District 1 was even worse than Ron Weasley. Draco Malfoy was more pompous, overbearing, and downright mean. He scoffed at everyone's pathetic attempts at anything and Hermione had wanted him to do awfully, so that he'd receive a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, though, Draco Malfoy seemed quite talented. He was strong, could climb well and appeared to be a quick learner. He was definitely competition.

At lunchtime, Hermione couldn't hide her excitement – one by one they would be called to receive a wand, and then have a private training session where they could test out their spells. Ernie, too, seemed like he was looking forward to it.

"How do you think they pick them out?" he asked as they ate healthy salads.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Do you think we may just have to pick one out, and that's it?" Ernie wondered.

"It can't be that simple," Hermione said, although she was worried that was it – how else could you get a wand?

Fortunately, their questions were answered. Hermione was called up first from District 3 and she walked down a small corridor into a large storeroom. There stood Atlanta and an elderly man who looked quite similar to Mr. Bogs.

"This is Mr. Ollivander," Atlanta said gesturing to him. "What he's going to do is take a quick look at you, then find a wand he'll think suits you."

Hermione nodded. "What will you assess me on? What factors—"

"It's about many things, but not to worry, I can find a wand for anyone." Mr. Ollivander said, his voice gravelly and low. "It's the wand that chooses the wizard, or witch in this case. What I do is I take a look at the person, think about their height, their manner, get a sense of who they are, and find a wand that would work well for them. I am simply the matchmaker, if I may say so."

Hermione did not completely understand, but did not voice this. Mr. Ollivander gave her a quick survey with his eyes and finished turned away from her. He got up on a ladder, and Hermione wondered how he could possibly climb it at his age, but he did it with ease and precision.

He got out a dusty box and placed it on the counter. Hermione stood on her tiptoes to peer into the box, curiosity getting the best of her. Mr. Ollivander chuckled and Hermione blushed.

"Eager, I see?" he said, amusement in his voice.

Hermione did not reply, simply giving him an awkward smile.

"Here we go," he said, taking the wand out of his box. "This should do quite nicely, I believe."He held it up in the air. "Vine, with a dragon heartstring. 10 ¾ in inch."

Hermione wondered how he could possibly know from that that this was the wand for her. Nevertheless she took it out of his hands gently, and as soon as it passed from his hand to hers she felt a sudden sensation flow through her. It was like a warm wave gently rolling over and within her, passing from her hand up her arms and around her whole body to the very tips of her toes. It felt like a magical event was happening within her body. She knew, she just _knew_, that this was indeed the wand for her.

Mr. Ollivander seemed to notice this. "I believe I was successful, was I not?"

Hermione could only nod.

"Well, then, I believe you can go to the gymnasium from here. It was a pleasure to meet you. Good luck."

Hermione smiled, whispered a _thank you _and scurried out of the storeroom, wand in hand. She watched as Atlanta went to collect Ernie, before making her way down to the gymnasium.

She waited for a moment outside the door, until a gaming official opened the door for her and let her in. Hermione took a deep breath and entered.

There were more gaming officials sitting on the balcony. They were feasting, a large table presenting any food anyone could possibly imagine. She was going to be judged in this session and given a score out of 12 on how well she performed today. It was very important to get a high score – if she got a high score, sponsors would know she was a very strong contender and would want to help her in the games. Hermione felt it was rather unfair of the officials to judge the contenders the first time they used wands, but she had no choice but to obey.

Hermione noticed the stations still there, waiting to be used; in addition there was also a dummy. Hermione decided to give fighting the dummy a go, and if she was unsuccessful, she could resort to showing off her knowledge of the equipment here. If she seemed to do a good job fighting the dummy then she would have more time practising actually casting spells, rather than learning their theory. Unfortunately, theory would only get you so far in magic.

Hermione took a deep breath and pointed her wand at a sandbag near the weightlifting. Wish a swish and flick of her wand, she cried out, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" and felt a tingling sensation spread through her. It was like the reversal of the sensation of holding a wand for the first time – instead of the magic spreading throughout her body, this time it felt like the magic was flowing back to the arm and through her fingertips and out of her wand.

The bag swiftly left the ground and Hermione tried to hide her happiness as it followed her every command. She swung it back slightly and then waved her wand in a forward motion towards the dummy.

The bag hit the dummy full force. The dummy swayed backwards but did not topple over. Hermione noticed the wand in its hand and fired a quick disarming charm. "_Expelliarmus_!" The dummy's wand flew up into the air and Hermione jumped up to catch it. She did not look at the gaming officials to see if they were impressed, although she was dying of curiosity.

Spell after spell she tried. Spell after spell worked. Freezing spells, menacing jinxes. Nearly everything seemed to work for her. Hermione beamed with pride as with a final wave of the wand the dummy fell over backwards. Her time was over.

She glanced up at the balcony and noticed the officials were barely looking at her. Had they not been watching? Did they miss her brilliant stun, and her amazing gouging spell? How would they judge her then? What would they judge her on?

Hermione glared at them, feeling a wave of red fury course through her. She glared at the dummy and wished she could cast _Diminuendo Oppugno, _a combination of two spells that would reduce the size of the dummy and fire it at a target_._

She turned around, flicking her wand a little as she did so, and began to walk off. Suddenly, she heard several gasps and then a stunned silence. Hermione turned back around and noticed them all staring at her. The gaming master had a miniature dummy in his lap.

_Oh. My. God._

Not only had she cast a nonverbal spell, but she'd cast it at a gaming official. His face held no emotion, but she had a feeling he was furious. However, she was angry too.

"I felt the dummy needed to be amongst its own kind." She announced, and marched off without another word.

Once she slammed the door behind her, she sighed and leaned against it, fighting back tears.

She had just ruined any chance she had of winning.

_As always, thank you, Sophie, for editing, J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins for writing and you, for reading and (hopefully) leaving a review. ;)_


	6. The Interviews

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 6: The Interview_

Hermione handed her wand over to the waiting Avox without even a sympathetic smile and stepped into the elevator silently, wondering how she could have been so reckless and stupid. The one time logic had to escape her had to be this time.

She stalked into her room and collapsed onto the bed, sighing in defeat.

As well as ruining her own chances, she'd also probably hurt Ernie's. He had to go right after her, when they were still fuming over what she'd done.

"Oh, Merlin!" she moaned, placing her face onto her pillow, trying to block out the world around her. She stayed in that position for a long time, until she fell asleep, her rest plagued by dreams in which her death played the main role.

Hermione was awoken by Raeden's incessant knocking. Looking out the window, she could see by the darkening sky that it was currently twilight.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Everyone could see that Hermione was in a bad mood. In all honestly, Hermione was still angry at the officials. No wonder the scores meant nothing quite often – there have been a lot of times when tributes who had received a meagre score ended up winning. Of course, they didn't have nearly as many sponsors, but they still managed to do it. Hermione had a feeling it was because they weren't fairly judged and could do so much better than the score said they could.

_Then maybe I do still have a chance... _Hermione thought a bit optimistically. _Still, it would've been nice to get a high score... maybe even an 11 or 12..._

Eventually, Raeden snapped from the near-silence and blurted out, "Alright, what happened?"

Hermione paused, then turned to look at Ernie. "How were they with you?" she asked him.

Ernie looked a bit surprised that she was talking to him but gave her an answer nevertheless."Well, they didn't seem to be very interested. They were talking amongst themselves and eating. I felt like the background music at a banquet - merely entertainment that they'd pay attention to once in awhile."

"Yes, that's exactly how I felt," Hermione said, glad that their attitude to the tributes did not seem to have changed due to her outburst. "That was why... I shrunk the dummy and shot it at the officials."Everyone was silent. Hermione felt she ought to add something else. "I also said that I thought the dummy should be amongst its own kind."

"You didn't!" Raeden exclaimed.

Hermione lowered her head down in an ashamed manner. "I know, I'm sorry."

"It's not the end of the world, Hermione." Colin said reassuringly, extending a large hand across the table but not quite reaching her.

"Colin's right."Lysabelle added. "Even if you get a horrible score, we'll be able to rally as many sponsors as possible, and once you get into the games everyone will see how talented you are. In fact, many people will think that you got a bad score on purpose so that you can pretend to be the underdog in the games."

Hermione did feel a little better at this, but was still apprehensive about what would happen as a result of her actions.

"Aside from that," Lysabelle continued, hoping to cheer her protégée up. "How'd you do?"

At that, Hermione perked up, remembering her success. "Really well. Every spell I cast worked – it was wonderful!"

"How did you feel when you cast your first spell?"Ernie asked eagerly, his blue eyes shining.

"Oh, you felt it too?" Hermione asked excitedly. "That pulsing throughout your body out of your arms and into your wand and then coming out as a spell?"

"Yes!" Ernie said."That's an amazing feeling, don't you think?"

"It's wonderful." Colin said, smiling at them. "I'm glad it worked for you. It means you should still get above a five at least."

Hermione felt relief join her happiness at that comment. "So, some people don't aren't all that good at magic, then?"

"No, sometimes the theory takes longer to perfect." Lysabelle told her. "It takes more time to get your spells working. I'm glad it worked for both of you though, otherwise you'd feel quite a bit of pressure to get it right in the short time frame you have."

Hermione nodded, knowing that if she hadn't been able to cast at least a few spells, she would have felt absolutely terrible and extremely afraid. She wondered who wasn't able to cast a spell at all today. They'd all find out how they did after dinner. Hermione immediately began to feel nervous once more.

After filling their stomachs to the brim with thick vanilla ice-cream and jelly, the tributes, mentors, stylists and escort made their way to the viewing room they'd been a few nights ago to watch the reaping. Hermione walked apprehensively, and Lysabelle put a comforting arm around her.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione, I'll get you the sponsors. The score doesn't matter. I can be very persuasive and I've had a lot of experience with this."

Hermione gave her a small smile and took a seat next to her on a royal blue couch. She rubbed her hands nervously between each other as she watched the bright screen.

Lance Randolph, TV personality and the presenter of the Hunger Games suddenly appeared on the screen, beaming at the people of Panem through the screen.

"Hello, Panem, and good evening, welcome to official scoring for the 61st Annual Hunger Games! Now, after the exciting reaping a few nights ago, our tributes were sent to the luxurious Capitol to train and prepare themselves for the upcoming battle starting Sunday. They've only had these three days to learn as much as they can, and today they showed off their skills to our wonderful game makers! The game makers have judged them and will give them a score out of 12, which you will find out in a few moments, at the same time as the nervous tributes who are undoubtedly watching this. Not to worry, tributes," Lance said, showing off his pearly white teeth at the camera, "your nerves will be eased in just a moment."

Everyone in the room exchanged an anxious glance with each other, waiting for their results.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Lance asked, and he vanished from the screen. In his place was now a picture of the District 1 tributes. Draco Malfoy was at the top with Lavender Brown's picture below. On the right of those pictures was each tribute's name.

Suddenly Draco Malfoy's name card spun around to reveal the score he'd received. Unfortunately, he'd received a 9, much to Hermione's disappointment. Nine was quite a good score, and she knew she'd be getting worse than that. Ooh, the look on his face would be horrible...

Lavender Brown got a 6, nothing special. Hermione had a feeling that she and Malfoy had paired up and formed an alliance. Perhaps they would add a few more tributes in once the scores were revealed tonight.

Cormac McLaggen, the eighteen year old from District2, got a 9 too, whilst the female tribute, Shimmer's score was an 8. Hermione's heart was beating frantically – these were such good scores. Although it was to be expected from Career districts, it was still scary knowing that your competitors were talented and had no qualms about killing to win.

It was now her and Ernie's pictures on the screen. Hermione was quite amazed at how fierce and dangerous she looked. The pictures were taken just after the makeovers on the first day in the Capitol, so her hair was fresh from its cut and her skin was glowing from the job Dolly had done.

Ernie looked pale and clammy as he watched his card flip around to reveal his score. No sigh of relief was louder or deeper than his as an 8 appeared on the screen. His sigh changed into a smile as he beamed at the screen. Everyone in the room applauded and congratulated him quickly before watching as Hermione's name began to move.

Hermione quickly took in a deep breath, her heart beating in a way similar to the way it had right before her name had been called out in the reaping. The name card flipped around and suddenly a big 10 was on the screen.

Hermione's eyes widened and she remained silent and still as everyone exclaimed in surprise and happiness. Finally, Hermione managed to breathe out a sigh of relief just like Ernie's and smile as everyone patted her and Ernie on the back.

She was so shocked she didn't pay much attention to the next few scorings, although she probably should've. No matter, Ernie would probably tell her later, for he was watching so fixedly at the screen it was as if nothing else in the world existed for him.

By the time they began showing District 7's, Hermione was more alert. She watched as Harry's name flipped around, his scar bright and distinctive in the picture beside it. Everyone gasped as a huge 11 appeared on the screen. Hermione smiled along with everyone else but felt a little uncomfortable doing so.

The next tributes, Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil from District 8, were given a 7 and 8 respectively.

The tributes from District 9, Terence and Holly, received an 8 and 6, which was quite interesting considering the female was only 12 years old. A six was very good.

Then came District 10, and Hermione couldn't help but sit up a bit straighter as Ron Weasley's face appeared on the screen, a lopsided smile etched on his face but a firm, determined stare in his blue eyes. She wanted to do better than him, yet for some reason, she wanted him to get a good score as well.

His name flipped around and an eight appeared on the screen. Hermione sighed – both her wishes had been granted.

_He's a git though. He doesn't deserve an eight._

Hermione ignored this and watched as Lizzie's name began to spin. A large 7 came up and Hermione smiled. Lizzie was nice and seemed friendly and caring, if a little shy.

The rest of the scorings were not too intimidating. No one else had managed to score higher than a 9, which made Hermione feel pretty good about herself. Megan Lytherson scraped the highest with a 9, and Hermione knew she would be tough competition.

The group split up after that, making their way to their rooms. Hermione and Ernie walked together down the corridor to their rooms and during that time she asked him whether there were any other standouts between District 3 and 7.

"Not particularly," Ernie replied, amused at the fact that Hermione Granger had not paid attention to something. "The girl from District 4 got a 9. She seems tough, and she's only 14. District 5 got the lowest score of all, I think. The boy got a 6 and the girl got a 5."

"What about the girl from six?" Hermione asked, remembering the tall, eighteen year old blonde. "Wasn't her name Stacey or something?"

"Ah, yes, Stacey Herschim got an 8." Ernie said.

They reached the door to Hermione's room.

"Well then," Hermione said, smiling at him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." Ernie said, nodding his head curtly and walking off towards his room.

Hermione opened the door to her room and entered it, feeling peaceful and calm just by being within its four pale blue walls. She decided to have an early night and go to asleep earlier than usual. She wanted to have as much time in the library as possible and read up on more spells the next day. She'd only be allowed in at 10 at the earliest, but if she got a good night's sleep, she could concentrate for longer and stay in the library the whole day, getting some good, solid work done.

This was why she calmly brushed her teeth and hair and prepared herself for bed. All the while, however, she couldn't help but dwell on the 11 Harry had received. She couldn't believe that she was even thinking it, yet she was a little envious. Hermione loved being the best, although it seemed unlikely that anyone wouldn't want to be otherwise. Harry's 11 irked her. He didn't seem that strong, nor that fast, and yet he'd gotten a near-impossible score. She'd gotten second-best, and she wasn't entirely used to that feeling.

_Stop being so ungrateful, Hermione,_ her mind argued as she pulled back the covers of her bed. _Besides, because of his 11, the Careers will undoubtedly go for Harry now. They'll be annoyed that he beat them and got such a score, so he'll be their target throughout the games. You should be thankful that you didn't get the best, but still got a brilliant score that would bring in sponsors._

And with that final thought, Hermione forgot all about Harry's 11 and her 10 as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Friday was a calm, peaceful day, spent in a way much similar to the way Hermione often spent days off back in District 3 – reading. Hermione spent the entire time curled up in an armchair in the corner of the library, revising her spells. Other tributes would come and go, leaving to practise spells, but Hermione felt that because every spell of hers had worked, if she just learned the theory of each spell, she'd be able to perform it sufficiently in the games. She could practise the spells themselves whilst hiding out – she could not learn about new spells in the games.

Saturday morning was meant to be relaxation time, but it was anything but. For four hours, Hermione had training for the interview which would be held that evening. The first two hours were spent with Lysabelle and Raeden, who assisted her in presentation. They put her in a dazzling silver dress and extremely high heels, and Hermione had to try and walk around the room.

"Don't waddle!"Lysabelle called out. "You look like a duck!"

It was difficult not to waddle, as Hermione had never worn heels in her entire life. Now, Hermione staggered around, practising smiling and maintaining a good posture at the same time. Raeden would often point out when she was slouching. Lysabelle frequently called out for Hermione to not lift her dress up too high when she walked, as she'd reveal too much of her, 'sorry, but frankly skinny ankles.'

Needless to say, Hermione was relieved when that ordeal was over. She was completely exhausted and her feet were aching, and it didn't help that she was extremely worried that they would still be sore the next day – the beginning of the Hunger Games. After presentation training, Hermione met up with Colin and Ernie, who had just returned from practising content and interviews, to have lunch. They did not have a lot of time to eat – as soon as Hermione had put in the final spoonful of soup into her mouth she was dragged away by Colin into a sitting room.

They sat down and Colin quickly got to the point.

"All right now. We've only got two hours before you have to meet up with Eyvy and the prep team to get ready for the interview tonight. We need to rehearse what you'll say and what kind of person you'll be."

"Easy – myself."Hermione said. "Who else would I be?"

"No, no," Colin said, smiling anyway. "We need to show you as _someone_ – either the tough competitor, the sad, reluctant, but determined to return home tribute, or will you be mysterious or charming? What do you like the sound of, Hermione? How do you want the Capitol to see you?"

"A smart contender."Hermione said honestly. "But I'm not going to act like I like them. They're barbaric, and I will _not _pretend that I support what they do."

"I see 'charming' is out." Colin commented, and brightened up. "All right, then. 'Smart, strong contender.' Do you want to be aloof, funny, crazy?"

"No, not particularly," Hermione answered, "I'm none of those things, so can't I pretend to be them. I'm not funny, I'm not crazy, and I'm not exactly aloof either."

Colin looked like he was struggling to come up with other ideas. "Ah, all right then," he said optimistically. "Can you be humble? Can you act almost amazed at all this, everything that has happened to you?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Amazed? Amazed and grateful that I'm about to be forced into an arena to fight to the death?"

Colin's smile faltered. "Ah, well, I guess not."

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping. She quickly straightened them, practising for the evening. "I suppose I could act humble... in a way. I could compliment the experience itself. The training, the Capitol, the people... the public would like that, wouldn't they?"

Colin looked immensely relieved that they had a solution. "Yes! Yes, they would! Good thinking! Now, I'll ask you some questions, and you try and act humble and amazed at the world around you – remember to add in bits and pieces about yourself though. The purpose of this interview is for people to get to know you, so they have to know a bit about your life, friends, interests. Mention those once in a while, but direct it back to the Capitol."

Hermione nodded and prepared herself for the onslaught of questions. One after the other they came, and one after the other she answered. At times, she revealed irritation and anger, but she quickly tried to suppress it, and by the end of the two hour session, she was sure that during the interview, she wouldn't say one bad word about the Capitol.

At two thirty, Hermione is taken away from Colin's sitting room and dragged by Dolly into the styling room she'd been in a few days ago for the opening ceremony. Eyvy and the prep team were already in the room, Eyvy sitting gracefully on a tall chair in the corner. Saffron and Spring immediately pulled her in and started working on getting her back to 'Beauty Base Zero', which was supposed to be a flawless but natural look – the way one would look after just waking up, but with perfect everything.

As Spring washed Hermione's hair with a lovely vanilla shampoo, Dolly worked on body hairs, plucking anything that had popped up in the last few days. Saffron worked around them, cutting Hermione's nails and filing them, then coating them with clear gloss. Eyvy watched on as they worked, giving them tips every now and then.

After they'd done that, Spring continued on squeezing excess water out of Hermione's hair and Dolly began rubbing a moisturising cream onto Hermione's delicate pink skin. Eyvy began asking the girls to get make up ready.

Saffron was taking care of Hermione's make up; making sure Hermione looked plain but pretty. Hermione closed her eyes as powder flew into her face and concealer was added in places. She wondered what sort of look they were going for.

By the time they were all done, there was just under an hour left. Hermione felt that there wasn't going to be too much left to do – all she needed was the dress. However, Spring reminded her that they still needed to add some styling potions and accessories into Hermione's hair. Hermione was told to close her eyes, because they would now be putting on her dress and then getting her hair styled. Until that was done, she couldn't open them, otherwise the surprise would be ruined.

Hermione bit her lip to hide her excitement as a silky fabric grazed her skin. She breathed in deeply, relishing the soft feeling. Still keeping her eyes closed, she focused on her other senses. She heard Spring's cheerful humming and quiet singing as she worked diligently. She smelled the delicious aromas floating around her. She felt the cool presence of a necklace as it touched her sensitive skin.

Finally, the agonising wait was over and Eyvy helped her get up and face a mirror. She was told to step forward into a pair of shoes and Eyvy guided her as she did that. Hermione was relieved that they felt like simple flats. Taking in a deep breath, Hermione listened as Eyvy's gentle voice told her to open her eyes.

Her mouth opened of its own accord as she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror. She appeared to be a Greek goddess of some sort. Her white dress billowed around her feet, which were protected from the cold floor's surface by gold sandals. The dress was so long you could barely see the sandals – only when Hermione walked would the audience see them. The dress had no sleeves – just the silky material that covered her thin shoulders. A gold belt was wrapped around at the waist, and a simple gold chain hung around her neck. Hermione's hair was flowing beautifully just below her shoulders and a pretty flowery headpiece sat atop of the curly locks.

"Wow," she murmured.

"It shows you're strong and pure." Eyvy said. "You look wonderful."

Hermione smiled, feeling a giddy and ridiculous urge to spin and twirl around. She'd never worn such a long dress – in fact, the only times she ever wore dresses were on reaping days. This was the first time she'd ever worn a formal dress of any kind.

"We don't have any time to dawdle, sorry!" Lysabelle called out, and the girls turned to look at her near the doorway. "Hermione, you and Ernie need to start heading down now."

Suddenly Hermione was whisked out of the room and towards the elevator. The doors immediately open and she and Ernie were shoved in. Colin and Lysabelle quickly scurried in after them.

"Merlin, they sure are rough with us."Hermione said as the ground seemed to become closer and closer.

Ernie chuckled, and Lysabelle and Colin smirked. "Sorry," Colin said. "It's necessary."

"Are you both set?"Lysabelle asked them.

Hermione nodded; Ernie did the same.

"Good." Lysabelle said. "You'll line up in district order – girls before boys, and then walk up on stage once Lance calls you. Just sit in your seat and wait until it's your turn."

As soon as they got off the escalator, stage officials were at them, pushing them forward into the line, organising everyone. Hermione didn't even get to see how anyone else looked.

Lance Randolph called them up onto the stage very soon after. Hermione tried not to trip on her dress, nor reveal too much of her 'frankly skinny' ankles. She remembered to keep her posture straight and sat down gracefully in her chair. Then she got to look at the audience.

Hermione didn't see much. The bright lights blinded her, but she could just make out cameras at the bottom of the stage. She knew there were more overhead. Judging from the excitement from the audience, there seemed to be a lot of people in the crowd.

Lavender Brown was the first tribute to speak, and she seemed to be a charismatic, flirtatious sort. She continuously flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and giggled far too loudly at anything Lance said. Hermione had to refrain from rolling her eyes several times.

Draco Malfoy and Cormac McLaggen from two were quite similar in attitude. Both were arrogant and confident, proud of themselves in an unattractive way. Hermione didn't pay much attention to them – her heart was pounding wildly and her palms were growing sweaty.

Then it was her turn and she was walking towards Lance and his bright purple hair. She stood next to him whilst he addressed the thousands of people watching.

"So, Hermione Granger, that's quite an interesting name, I'd like to say."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is." She said, not entirely sure how to respond. After a small pause she added, "My mum likes Shakespeare's _A Winter's Tale_, so I was named after the heroine in that play."

"Ah, yes, of course." Lance said, nodding. "Such a tragic story."

"With a happy ending, though." Hermione pointed out. "Hermione comes back, against all odds." She allowed that statement to linger in people's minds, and it seemed Lance understood that, for he too waited a moment before continuing.

"And do you believe the odds are in your favour, then?" Lance asked her.

"Yes." Hermione said without hesitating – she wanted the sponsors to believe that without a single doubt in their mind. "I do."

"So what do you think sets you apart from everybody else?"

Hermione paused. "I'm smart, and I can think fast. I also have a good memory, which I'm sure will come in handy in these games."

"So you've enjoyed the training here, then?" Lance asked. "You've enjoyed your stay?"

"Yes, it's been wonderful." Hermione gushed, remembering what she'd discussed with Colin. "Everything is so beautiful here. I love looking out of the elevator and admiring this city and its vibrant life."

Everyone smiled and gave a small clap of appreciation.

"Why, thank you."Lance said, straightening his back and beaming widely.

"No, thank _you_!" Hermione said, hoping she wasn't overdoing it. "This whole experience has been unbelievable."

"I'm sure it has," Lance said. "And while I know everyone would love to hear more about how lovely the Capitol is, I think they'd rather hear about you. How was life back at home for you? Comfortable? Enjoyable?"

"I suppose it was comfortable compared to others." Hermione said. There was an uncomfortable silence as Hermione realised she shouldn't have said that. Hermione knew that the only reason he'd asked her this was because she was from District 3, which wasn't that poor. He'd never ask that question to someone from District 11 or 12, who obviously lived in terrible conditions and would say so and tarnish the Capitol's reputation. _Oh well_, she thought. _It's the truth_. She was a bit nervous that that slip up would cost her, though.

"Uh, yes, I guess it would be." Lance said, losing his composure somewhat, but quickly regaining it. "You seem quite content in this dress, and just as amazing as you looked during the opening ceremony in that unforgettable get-up. Who designed this?"

"Oh, this was by Eyvy, my stylist. Doesn't it look wonderful?" Hermione beamed, not acting one bit.

"It certainly does. Give us a twirl, would you?" Lance suggested, grabbing her hand and lifting it up in the air. His purple sleeve lowered slightly to reveal a red tattoo of some sort. Hermione smiled and spun around on the spot, her white dress spinning with her. Everyone oohed and ahhed, applauding wildly. She spun around some more until she felt dizzy, and stumbled as she stopped. The buzzer sounded, signifying the interview was over and Lance bid her farewell and showed her to her seat.

Hermione sighed as she sat down, feeling relieved. There had been a few blunders, but the roaring crowd said one thing – the interview was a success.

She watched on as the other tributes spoke. Ernie had a quiet strength about him that fascinated everyone and drew them in to his conversation with Lance. Callum from District 6 mesmerised everyone with his timidness and innocence. Harry, who had actually stood quite awkwardly with Lance, still managed to look strong and fierce – Hermione had no idea how he could do it.

Ron, to Hermione's annoyance, was utterly perfect. He charmed and he amused – the audience laughed at everything he said – but he also added a touch of sympathy when he spoke of home and his family. No one could look away from him or Lance - he was truly unforgettable.

After the interviews and dinner, Hermione and Ernie found themselves watching the re-run. Hermione felt like she and Ernie were memorable, but certainly not as memorable as Ron or Harry, or Perch Diamond from 4, who for some reason stood out, even though she was the female equivalent of Draco Malfoy. Still, she felt that she and Ernie stood a good chance in the games, what with the scores they'd got and the impressions they'd made in the opening ceremony. The odds were in their favour.

That final night in the training centre, Hermione fell asleep thinking about the amazed smile on Ron's face when she first got up and showed her dress to everyone...

The morning of the Hunger Games was hectic. Raeden, Lysabelle and Colin had to bid them farewell quickly and make their way to Games Headquarters to start getting them sponsors. Eyvy and Florence would travel with Hermione and Ernie and stand nearby as they were lifted up into the arena.

The goodbyes were sad, and Hermione and Ernie stood separately. It gave Hermione a chance to speak with Lysabelle for the final time.

"Any last tips?"Hermione asked her, giving her a hug.

"Don't battle it out in the Cornucopia." Lysabelle said to her. "As soon as the games start, run away from it, from everyone. Do not try to fight for any supplies. It's too risky. Just go into hiding and separate yourself from everyone. Find food and water and shelter. Stick it out. You'll be fine. Just do _not_ fight in the Cornucopia. Half of the tributes die in those first few minutes if they choose to stay and fight for supplies. Don't risk it."

"Okay." Hermione said, feeling like Lysabelle's suggestion was logical and practical, which she liked.

Lysabelle gave her a final hug. "Good luck, Hermione," she said, and walked away from Hermione, waving as she did.

And then they were gone, and Hermione was shown to a ladder at the top of the roof, connected to a hovercraft. Hermione climbed onto the ladder and was lifted upwards, along with Eyvy, to be taken to the arena's combined prep room and launch room, which contained a pedestal launch pad that would be lifted up into the arena with her on it.

It seemed to be happening in a blur. A tracker was injected into her skin, she was dressed in a jumpsuit and her hair was pulled into a plait. Her heart was pounding wildly and suddenly Eyvy was kissing her on the forehead, giving her Mr. Bogs' token and placing it in a jumpsuit pocket, and handing her her vine wand. Then a glass case was coming down onto her, trapping her on the pedestal like a pod. Eyvy was giving her a reassuring wave and mouthing, "Good luck!"

The pedestal-pod was moving upwards and suddenly a large field appeared before her – the Cornucopia. Behind it was a forest, and Hermione had no idea what it would hold inside it.

Then Hermione heard a countdown, and surrounding the Cornucopia were the other tributes. Hermione had never felt so frightened in her life. If she stepped off the pedestal before one, she would instantly be blown up.

Hermione was given time, during that 60 second countdown, to survey what was being offered in the Cornucopia. Food, water, tent packs, weapons... Hermione gripped onto her wand tightly as she heard the words,

"Three... two... one... begin!"

_A/N I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter, it should be up sooner than this one was. Thanks for reading! (:_


	7. The Hunger Games

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 7: The Hunger Games_

Chaos. That's all there was.

Hermione took a step off her pod and watched as all the tributes near her started sprinting towards the Cornucopia, eager to grab some supplies and run away with it or literally die trying. She knew it was going to happen, which was why instead of immediately running to the right, the best way to go around the Cornucopia and into the forest, she waited for a moment, in front of her pedestal.

And then suddenly, she heard screaming. It drew her attention away from the spectacles unfolding in the Cornucopia, and Hermione turned around to her left to find that Gloria Statem, the girl from 5, was lying on the ground, bleeding awfully. Her attacker, Stacey Herschim, was running over her towards the Cornucopia.

This was exactly why Hermione had not immediately begun running. Gloria's mistake was immediately running into the oncoming paths of vicious tributes who would do anything to get to the Cornucopia first. She was killed for being in their way. Luckily, Hermione had realised this would happen, especially since she had to run past pods that belonged to Career Districts, who were the toughest competition. Hermione noticed that in a matter of seconds all the tributes from Districts 1 and 2 were already in the Cornucopia bloodbath, which left her with a clean escape whilst everyone was fighting over supplies.

Some tributes were already there, in the midst of the supplies, battling each other. Harry, Hermione saw, was right in the middle of it. She couldn't spot Ron's distinctive ginger hair, so he had probably gone to find shelter. Some tributes were already firing spells, others were quickly making use of their new weapons by throwing knives or shooting arrows. Hermione knew she'd better get a move on.

Immediately Hermione began running, as fast as she could, as far away from the Cornucopia as she could. She knew that she only had a few seconds before someone would come out of the bloodbath with some weapon and would want to kill the first thing they saw – her. She continued running, as fast as her feet would carry her.

Suddenly a stunning spell was coming her way. Hermione ducked and tripped, then quickly jumped up and continued running, narrowly avoiding another spell. The trees, they were getting closer and closer...

And she nearly jumped into the forest, her determination was so fierce. As soon as she was surrounded by the trees, she felt safe. But she wasn't – not yet. Hermione couldn't stop. Very soon, other tributes would be running there too. Perhaps some were already here – Ernie... where was he? Had he chosen to stay and fight, or had Colin told him to run?

Hermione continued running, panting and in pain. She couldn't stop though. She was literally running for her life. There were people entering this forest with new weapons they couldn't wait to use. Most of the time, tributes liked to stick to deadly non-magical items in the Hunger Games, only using their wand to transfigure something into shelter. They just weren't apt enough with wands to be able to use them often enough, nor did they know enough spells. And thanks to the law on unforgivable curses, Hermione knew that non-magical weapons could do so much more to her than a wand at this point.

Her legs felt like they were about to snap off and Hermione could barely breathe. Her lips were dry and craving water, and although Hermione knew there was a charm that would sent water flying out the tip of a wand, she couldn't stop to remember exactly how it was pronounced. She would do it when she found a place to stay in, far away from the Cornucopia.

Eventually, her feet led her to a tiny clearing. Hermione stepped into it and looked at the sky for a moment. It was a strong blue and the sun shining down brilliantly. Hermione felt hot and needed water.

_No, a place to stay... I need to relax..._

Hermione glanced up at the trees surrounding the clearing. If she could get up onto one of them, she'd be able to get a good look at whoever was coming her way. It was also a good place to sleep in, if she could cast the correct enchantments.

Hermione felt confident that she could.

"_Carpe retractum_," Hermione murmured, pointing her wand at one tree. A rope shot out from her wand and rose up, wrapping itself around a strong branch. Hermione put her hands on the rope and her feet on the trunk and began to climb.

Hermione wasn't too skilled at climbing, but tried to do it as quickly as she could so other tributes passing by wouldn't notice her. By the time she reached the branch, she was exhausted and grateful for a place to rest. She leaned back against the trunk and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm her raging heart.

She'd survived the Cornucopia bloodbath. She didn't have any supplies, but she had her life, which Hermione was happy with. That poor girl from District5... she'd had the right idea. She was going to do the exact same thing that Hermione did – run away as fast as she could from the Cornucopia and into the safety of the forest trees, but she didn't realise that doing that straight away would mean she was right in the way of dangerous tributes that were eager to win something in the Cornucopia bloodbath.

Hermione let out a small sigh, thinking about what would have happened had she not paused to let the tributes near her make their way to the supplies. If she'd ran straight away, right into the path of Career tributes, ruining their chances of winning anything – because even a split second counted in the race to the Cornucopia - she would certainly not be sitting on this very branch.

_So that's at least one tribute down, then_. Hermione thought. _The girl from 5, Gloria Statem. There's no chance someone could survive losing that much blood, especially if no one helped them... and no one could help her... or wanted to_.

She'd seemed nice. Hermione had never spoken to her, but the girl had a friendly, approachable look in her face. Her dirty blonde hair had been tied in two braids every single training session, and during her time running around in training her pink cheeks would flush further. Her forehead would shine with sweat, but she'd always tackle everything with a smile on her face. It was ridiculous, since she'd never spoken to Gloria, but Hermione felt horribly sad about her death.

Her murder... because it _was_ murder. The moment Stacey had cast a slicing charm of some sort and allowed her to bleed to death... it was murder, when Gloria's agony had finally finished and her eyelids drifted closed, hiding her green irises from the world forever. Hermione knew Stacey probably hadn't wanted Gloria to die such a painful death, but there weren't that many spells besides the unforgivable _Avada Kedavra_ that could kill painlessly... to Hermione's knowledge, there weren't any.

That's what was so horrible about the Capitol... they wanted these violent, painful, slow deaths.

Hermione sighed once more, feeling hungry. She'd need to set up a trap soon. She was just about to stand up on the branch and begin her climb down when she heard footsteps and voices.

There was the loud guffaw of Draco Malfoy, one she'd recognise anywhere, and the high-pitched giggling coming from Lavender Brown and another girl that Hermione didn't know. The heavy footsteps had to be Cormac McLaggen's. Hermione made sure that she was sitting in such a way that the leaves and branches were completely hiding her from their view.

They appeared in the clearing, the afternoon sunlight rebounding off their heads as they looked around.

"Ooh, what a pretty place!" Lavender squealed. Hermione noticed the girl standing next to her was Shimmer Throsher. Her dark auburn hair was hanging down her back, out and loose. Hermione did not see the practicality in having hairs flying into one's face, but apparently Shimmer didn't mind.

"We can't stay here." Cormac said to his allies. "As 'pretty' as this place is, if we set up camp here, everyone will be able to spot us from a mile away. Look how easily we saw this clearing."

"We can go up into the trees," Draco pointed out, and Hermione took in a sharp breath.

"We could, but one tree won't fit all of us." Shimmer said.

"That's why we go into _different_ trees," Cormac said, rolling his dark green eyes at her.

_Oh, no,_ thought Hermione. _This is not good, not good at all_.

"How do we get up them?" Lavender asked. "I can't climb a tree."

"Oh, for God's sake," said Draco Malfoy, stepping over to a tree that thankfully wasn't Hermione's, and beginning to climb it. "You're in the Hunger Games, you're going to have to." It seemed that they didn't know any spells that could help them. Hermione noticed Draco's wand was in his back pocket, which wasn't easily accessible.

Hermione watched as they all chose trees to sleep in. She sighed as Shimmer, who seemed to be the dimmest of the four stood beside her tree. But Hermione wasn't in the all clear yet. She began looking around frantically for a solution to her difficult problem. She couldn't escape, at least not subtly, and even if she somehow managed to jump down unnoticed, one of the four Careers would certainly spot her running for her life and she couldn't take on all four of them. No, she had to stay, but she couldn't...

_Oh Merlin, this is it_, Hermione thought. _Think, Hermione, think_!

And suddenly Hermione had to refrain from gasping in realisation. She quickly snatched out her wand and tapped it on her head, muttering an incantation as she did. She looked down at her hands and saw that they weren't there anymore.

_Perfect_, Hermione thought. Her disillusionment charm had worked. She was as close as possible to being absolutely invisible.

Shimmer would want to take the branch Hermione was sitting on, though, so Hermione had to quickly get out of her way or else she would be spotted. Hermione got up as quietly as she could and began to climb, pulling herself up onto branches and trying not to groan.

She sighed as she looked down and noticed Shimmer was already settling into her former spot, not a care in the world. Hermione got up to the final branch and got out her wand, murmuring "_Silencio_," on herself and sat back down. Now, no sound would come out of her mouth in the night. Hermione prayed that her stomach remained quiet too. She would have to find a way to get down in the morning. Even with her disillusionment charm, it would be very difficult to not be spotted – disillusionment charms did not render one completely invisible. There would still be an outline, one that wouldn't be noticed in the night, but would be obvious in the day.

Maybe she could go in the night, whilst they were asleep. Or maybe they'd have someone on the lookout all hours of the night, and take it in turns...

_Calm down, Hermione, and deal with that problem when you have to. Now, relax, you're fine._

The Careers didn't speak to each other, not wanting their loud calls to be heard by others. She knew they weren't asleep though – they would all be keen to see how many people died today. To be honest, she was too.

The canons began to fire, signifying that tributes had died. On the first day, in the Cornucopia bloodbath, deaths were announced when the battle was finally over and officials could check. In the evening, an anthem would play and a hovercraft would fly over the arena with a large screen, showing tributes that had died that day.

And so Hermione settled back and waited. Her stomach was growling, her whole body was aching from exhaustion, and she was fighting a difficult battle with her eyelids, which were demanding for permission to close. She was also thirsty, and she knew she had to get out of this tree soon.

Whilst she waited, Hermione observed Shimmer as she rummaged through the contents of a pack she had won in the Cornucopia. Her eyes narrowed enviously as Shimmer took out a thick blanket and wrapped it around herself. Evening was beginning to fall upon the arena and the air was getting colder and colder by the minute. Hermione was already starting to shiver.

The anthem began to play and Hermione looked up through the leaves to see the seal of the Capitol in the sky. This was it. They would start to display head shots of the fallen in just a moment. Back in the districts, everyone would be watching the action unfold live, but the tributes in the arena had to simply make do with this. They could not witness the actual killings, because everyone would know the killer's secret strengths, which would be considered an unfair advantage.

Hermione mouthed the anthem as it played, knowing it off by heart. Whilst she'd never supported the Capitol, she did like Panem, and was proud of her home. She smiled at the familiarity in singing the anthem – this was something she could do.

The anthem finished and the sky darkened once more. Hermione knew from past experiences that it wouldn't be for long. She was proven right. The sky was quickly illuminated with a picture of the first of the dead.

Lorence Smith, from four.

Hermione looked on, concentrating carefully, keeping track in her mind.

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Gloria Statem, both from District five. Hermione was saddened once more by the reminder of the murder she'd witnessed earlier that day.

Her killer, however, had not made it out alive either. The next face was none other than eighteen year old Stacey Herschim's, her blonde fringe covering her right eye in such a way that made her look confident and determined. No doubt the few seconds that she'd spent getting rid of Gloria had delayed her. A split second was very well the difference between life and death, for both of those blonde-haired, green-eyed girls.

Callum Oakley, Hermione was surprised to realise, had made it out alive. His face had not appeared before Stacey's, and the male tribute was supposed to appear before the female. She was quite pleased – there was something nice about the boy, even though she'd never spoken to him. Perhaps she held sympathy for him because of his age – he was only 13, after all.

After Stacey came Vicky Filler's name. Hermione's mouth widened slightly as she realised that Vicky was from District 7. How was Harry dealing with it? He and Vicky had seemed like they were friendly. Had he known she was dead? Had he witnessed it? Or had he only just found out, like she had?

Next appeared Dean Thomas from District 8, and Hermione looked on in pity. He, too, had a pleasant look to him, and was particularly good at camouflage in training. After him was twelve year old Holly Sillon, who looked so innocent with her dark brown hair in two pigtails.

No one from District 10 was shown, which meant Ron and Lizzie were still alive. Hermione wondered whether they were together, hiding as allies. She hadn't seen Lizzie in the Cornucopia fight – perhaps she had run off with Ron.

After Holly Sillon came the fourteen year old male tribute from District 11. Ben Hart's face came up on the screen, his cheeks and nose sprinkled with a few light freckles. The fourteen year old from District 12 had survived, though. Clint Rootha's face had not been shown, but fifteen year old Annathee Plight had not survived the first day of the Hunger Games.

Hermione quickly counted it up in her head. According to her calculations, nine people were killed today, which meant that fifteen people were still in the competition.

She'd survived, though, which was quite a miracle. She'd survived the first day! Hermione smiled proudly, hugging herself to contain whatever body heat she still had. It was extremely cold now.

Hermione wondered whether she should get some sleep or wait until the Careers had done so before escaping. She felt the latter was a better choice, but she was so _tired_...

_And hungry, and thirsty_, her body reminded her.

Hermione heard her stomach emit a quiet rumble. She sighed, and allowed one arm to lower from its grip on her shoulders and hold onto her tummy. She was so cold... it was so cold... it felt like she was losing feeling in her fingers and toes. She tried to wiggle them to get them moving. She wished she had Shimmer's blanket, it looked so warm and thick...

An interesting smell was brought over by the light wind. Hermione quietly sniffed the air, trying to decipher what it was. Was that... smoke?

"Anyone else smell that?" Cormac asked. It was evident that he was the unofficial leader of this group.

"Yes, it's awful!" Shimmer answered, wrinkling her nose.

"Something's burning." Cormac announced, jumping down off his high branch with ease and landing perfectly. Hermione gulped. If she'd tried to make an escape earlier that day... he would certainly have caught up to her.

"Oh, what a mind." Draco Malfoy replied, and Hermione could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

"Hey, _I_ didn't know something was burning-" Shimmer began to say.

"Quiet!" Cormac shouted from the ground. "You guys are going to give away our position!" he said, clearly unaware that he was the loudest of them all. Malfoy and Shimmer fell quiet once more, though, listening to him.

"Now," he continued. "I expect some idiot decided to warm themselves up by starting a fire, but didn't realise that the smoke would carry everywhere and the flames would alert everyone to where the person is."

"How do you know it's a controlled fire?" Lavender said from her tree. "What if it's a bushfire started by the gaming officials?"

"It can't be." Cormac said patiently, for some reason not sounding annoyed by Lavender at all. "The gaming officials don't want every tribute to be gone in the first day. It'll mean the excitement of the games will be over in just a few days. They've had enough deaths for one day. As for me," Cormac took out a knife from his pocket and lifted it up proudly at the trees around him, "I haven't." He grinned.

Hermione heard the Careers give out small, menacing laughs as they watched Cormac make his way towards the fire and his next victim. Hermione's heart rate increased along with her fear. That poor person... although they had made a rather foolish decision. They must have been so cold they were desperate. Hermione could certainly sympathise with that.

It was silent as the four of them waited for Cormac's return. The only sounds heard were of birds still awake, and the cold wind blowing through the leaves. Hermione was still shivering, and she began to feel the silencing charm fade away. She quickly cast it on herself, making sure she was as quiet as she could be. She also decided to re-cast the disillusionment charm, in cast it had begun to fade away.

_Maybe Cormac won't return,_ Hermione thought. _Maybe the tribute will be able to fight him off... _It seemed unlikely, though, for Cormac would have the advantage of surprise.

Either way, Hermione was certain there would be another death tonight.

She was proved right when a canon was fired a few minutes later. She jumped slightly on her branch, and a few birds, startled by the canon, flew off, their wings fluttering wildly.

A short time later, Cormac returned, and Hermione could see his grin in the moonlight.

"Did it." He said simply, panting slightly. "Exhausted, though."

"Who was it?" Draco asked.

"The girl from eight, I think. Dark skin, black hair. Quite good-looking, if you ask me... before her blood spilled on her."

"Oh, that's awful!"Lavender cried. Hermione had to agree. Did Cormac have any remorse at all?

"I had to do it!"Cormac said, defending himself. "It's a game of survival, and you've got to kill to win." And without another word, he gripped onto the trunk of his tree and began lifting himself up.

Hermione conjured a picture of the girl in her mind. _Her name is..._was... _Parvati... wasn't it? Parvati Patil? _For some reason, she wanted to remember the dead, like she wanted to make sure that they weren't just contenders, but actual people. She wanted to remember them as human beings with real lives and real families and real homes... things they'd never return to. She did not want to think of them as competition that had to be killed in order for her to win, even though that was exactly what they were.

Hermione settled back a little further on her branch, so that her back was completely against the tree. She wondered whether she should try to sleep and risk moving in the night and falling onto the ground below.

_There has to be a way to secure myself,_ Hermione thought, skimming her mind, trying to find a possible solution.

"One of us needs to stay up and keep watch." Cormac ordered, back in his tree by then. "We can take it in turns."

"Oh, come on, Cormac." Lavender called out into the cold air. "No one knows we're here. It's night, so even if someone did pass through, they wouldn't see us in the trees. We're safe. Let us all sleep."

Cormac sighed. "I suppose you're right." He resigned. "All right. You guys go to sleep. G'night."

Draco did not reply, but Shimmer and Lavender murmured a cheerful, "Night!" and Hermione sighed, thankful for Lavender's help. She could make an escape later tonight, when they were all asleep.

_Later... _Hermione thought sleepily, getting her wand out and whispering, "_Incarcerous_," quietly so that it didn't even carry to Shimmer's ears, who was only a few metres below her. Ropes came out of Hermione's wand and silently and swiftly coiled around her and the tree branch. Hermione was positive she wouldn't fall out of the tree tonight, and no one would see her disillusioned self or her ropes in the dark of the night.

_I'll wake up later and make an escape then... when they're all definitely asleep._

And so Hermione allowed herself to close her eyes and drift off to sleep, too, her quiet breathing soon joining the Careers' snores.

When Hermione's eyes opened up the next day, Hermione was angry to see that the sun was already in the process of rising too.

_Oh, wonderful,_ Hermione thought bitterly. _How could I have possibly allowed myself to fall asleep_? The safety of the dark had been lost. Hermione had to escape now, before the other tributes would wake. It was times like these that Hermione was grateful she was an early riser.

_All right, time to get a move on._

She managed to pull out her wand from her pocket and quietly murmur, "_Diffindo_."The rope split into two and Hermione quickly caught them before they fell onto Shimmer's sleeping body.

Now, to the task of getting down. The ropes in Hermione's hands, although two halves of a whole, were still quite long, and Hermione decided to tie one of them to the branch tightly, making sure it was as secure as possible. It was a good thing she'd spent all that time learning how to tie a proper knot during training. Hermione looked down at the ground. She was nervous now. She'd never been too good with heights. Climbing hadn't been too difficult – the safety of a branch had helped to soothe her worries, but going down... all she had was a rope and ground too far below.

She let the rope fall down as far as it could. It wasn't as long as the tree, but Hermione felt she could jump from the remaining distance. Casting a quick disillusionment charm and silencing charm once more, Hermione gripped onto the rope and began to climb down. Her hands hurt and she was desperate for water or food, but firstly she had to get down in one piece. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she passed Shimmer. The District 2 tribute was sleeping deeply, soft sighs escaping her mouth. Hermione stared enviously at the pack resting in Shimmer's lap. It was open, and Hermione noticed something inside it that she could really use – iodine, to purify water. If she leaned over and took it, Shimmer wouldn't notice. The bottle was tiny and practically weightless. If Hermione were to take the whole pack, Shimmer would realise there was no weight pressing down on her and wake up, but if Hermione just took the iodine...

Hermione tentatively let go of the rope and reached over, careful not to touch anything except the small bottle of iodine. Her fingers grasped onto it and she beamed triumphantly when Shimmer did not move at all. She took it and managed to put it into her pocket with one hand and continued her way down the tree.

If Hermione had been able to emit a sound, she would have gasped. Instead, her mouth just opened softly, a look that would've appeared quite comical if anyone from Panem had been awake to see it. She doubted many people would be watching the games at this time. The reason for her gasp was how high she had to jump from – she had greatly miscalculated where the rope ended.

_Come on, Hermione, it's only two metres. You can do it. Come on._

She took a deep breath and let go. It was a good thing the silencing charm had been working, or the Career tributes would have been awoken by her scream. She landed with a _thud_, but quickly got up and began tiptoeing out of the clearing.

Suddenly, she heard a male voice shout out, "Someone's here!" from above her.

Hermione bolted, knowing if Cormac McLaggen caught her, she would certainly not make it out alive.

_A/N Thank you for reading! :)_


	8. The Abilities Trees Possess

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 8: The Abilities Trees Possess_

Hermione sprinted as fast as she'd sprinted the day before in the Cornucopia battle. This time, she did not look back. If she were to hesitate for even a second, it would be the end. Once again, a split second made all the difference.

She was quickly out of breath but she continued to run, dodging trees and jumping over fallen logs. The jumping was taking up more and more energy. Now and then she'd see a bright beam of light narrowly miss her, and she knew someone was still chasing her, firing potentially lethal spells, or spells that would immobilise her completely and mean her imminent death. Cormac was probably running as fast as he could, and the head start of a few metres that Hermione had had at the beginning, by running away before Cormac had managed to jump down from his tree, was starting to disappear. Cormac's legs were far too long.

A hex was shot right at her, but Hermione quickly darted to the left, through more trees. She was extremely thirsty and her legs were aching, but she _had_ to keep running.

Suddenly, a bright red light and dark green light were shot at the same time. Hermione, startled, turned her head to look back, still running as fast as her legs could carry her. She let out an audible gasp – the silencing charm was wearing off.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" she cried, for chasing her was not only Cormac, but Shimmer, too. Though Shimmer seemed to be quite slow mentally, physically she was anything but. In fact, she seemed to be even faster than Cormac.

Were they picking up speed or was Hermione slowing down? It appeared to be the latter, and Hermione knew that if they caught up to her, she'd be no match against the both of them no matter how good her spell work was. As she ran, Hermione began to fire spells, waving her wand behind her and hoping it somehow hit them.

"_Stupefy_!" she cried. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" The spells being fired at her in response were evidence that her charms had missed their target.

Her throat was dry and her breath was unsteady – it was coming in shallow gasps and Hermione was panting. Her legs felt like they would snap off any moment now.

"Help," Hermione wheezed, for she knew that this had to be on camera. Colin or Lysabelle would have to see this. Sponsors would _have_ to know that she needed assistance. Someone had to be awake and watching this. "Someone, help, please!" she screamed as another jinx narrowly missed her.

Something had to stop Cormac and Shimmer, something physical, or they would keep on chasing her. She had to conjure something to block them from her. But what?

_Think, Hermione, think._

Hermione decided to take a big risk and stopped, quickly turning around. Shimmer and Cormac were much closer than Hermione anticipated, but far away enough for this plan to work. Hermione put her wand up and shouted out, "_Diffindo_!"

And the object split. Not Shimmer or Cormac, no. A large, thick, heavy branch split from a tree and began to fall onto the cool ground below.

Something was in the way, though.

A canon fired.

Hermione's eyes widened as she caught sight of a body under the huge branch. Cormac glared at her from behind the branch, anger emanating from his very skin.

The female tribute from District 2 lay under the fallen branch, dead. Her eyes were now closed, never to open again.

Time seemed to slow for Hermione and the sound of her heartbeat seemed to resonate in her ears. She had just killed someone.

Hermione tentatively took a step back, away from the branch, as if that would stop what had just happened. Hermione could see from behind the log Cormac's retreating back. He had given up, and was going back to the forest clearing to tell Draco and Lavender that Shimmer was dead.

Shimmer. _Dead_.

Because of Hermione.

Hermione suddenly inhaled deeply and fell to the ground, staring at the log that had killed Shimmer. Her heart felt like it'd been split into two. She'd never felt so horrible in her life.

_I didn't mean to... I never meant to... I just wanted to stop them... like what happened to Cormac..._

But Shimmer had been too fast for her own good, and instead of having the log block her way, she had ended up right underneath it when it fell. Hermione had never meant to kill, ever. She had always thought that during the games she would stay low and hide until it was down to her and one other person. She had never planned on getting into any fights – she knew she wouldn't come out alive. She'd also never planned on killing someone.

It was difficult to breathe, and through her cloudy vision Hermione could see a bright orange pack lying next to the log. It was the pack Shimmer had won in the Cornucopia, the pack she'd decided to take with her on her fateful chase, the pack that had slipped off her shoulder when the large branch fell on her.

Hermione still had enough sense to run over and take it, as awful as her conscience felt about her doing so. A hovercraft would be there in a moment to take Shimmer's body out of the arena, and if Hermione hadn't taken the pack it would have gone up with her. Hermione hastily ran away from the scene, unable to look at it any longer.

Once she was out of earshot and unable to hear the sounds of a hovercraft landing and taking a dead body away from the arena, Hermione slowed down to a walk. She shuffled around with the pack's straps on both her shoulders and her hands in her pockets, her eyes not leaving the ground. She knew she ought to be more alert, but she couldn't. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened to Shimmer... because of her.

Cormac would probably be after her now. He'd already seemed intent on getting rid of her after the eleven she'd received in training, but now that she'd shot his partner, a sort of teammate of his... he'd want vengeance. He'd want Hermione to pay.

Hermione stopped walking and slumped back against a tree, closing her eyes tightly, trying to block all the negative thoughts from surfacing in her mind and to stop the hot tears that were very soon going to stream down her face.

_No,_ she thought. _I've got to get some water. Now. I don't have time for this_.

Hermione pulled herself together and straightened herself up. She continued walking, her desperation for water becoming greater and greater. She was also hungry, too, but she needed water more than food. Her mouth was dry and her lips felt cracked.

Water... water...

Downhill. Water flowed downhill. She was going in the right direction, but why wasn't there any water?

_Just keep walking, Hermione._

_Water seems so scarce here. What if other tributes are already there, at the only source of water?_

_You'll have to deal with it. You need water._

Hermione's vision was getting blurry and her mind was getting fuzzy. It didn't help that she was carrying grief over Shimmer's death, which was making her hurt more and more emotionally.

_Stop it, Hermione. Keep walking. You need water._

Her exhaustion, her hunger, her thirst, her grief... it was all slowing her down, and it didn't help that her feet were also getting stuck in mud every step she took.

Hermione paused.

_Mud…?_

There was water somewhere!

With renewed enthusiasm Hermione began to walk further and further. Looking up ahead, she could see a large, very cool lake inviting her to come closer. Hermione sighed with relief and, throwing her pack onto the mud, practically jumped into the lake. The cool, murky water hit her body, but it was so pleasant after all that running. It felt so wonderful...

Luckily, Hermione still had enough senses about her to not drink the water straight away, but to add iodine in to purify it. Hermione sighed as she resurfaced and swam over to her pack, getting out a small bottle and the iodine. She scooped up the lake water using the bottle and added a few drops of iodine to it.

_All right, in thirty minutes. In thirty minutes you'll be able to have your water._

Hermione felt a little less thirsty at that thought, illogical as it was. It was like the promise of water had quenched her thirst slightly. She decided to take a look and see what else was in her pack.

To her relief, Shimmer had packed the thick blanket before realising Cormac had gone. It seemed that she'd rushed - nothing was neat and looked as if it had been stuffed in hastily. Shimmer probably hadn't wanted to leave these belongings unattended.

_Then she must not have completely trusted Lavender and Draco,_ Hermione concluded.

Thanks to Shimmer's suspicions, though, Hermione would not be cold tonight. There was also a lovely, warm sleeping bag she could use too.

She then found some biscuits in a small package. Hermione greedily picked them up and began eating them. She tried to eat slowly, to savour them, but they were gone too quickly. In her pack she also found some dried bacon strips, which she decided to leave for another time, some crackers, a few clean bandages and some disinfectant for cuts and bruises. There was also a torch, though why it would be there when one could use the _lumos_ spell, Hermione wasn't sure.

Not only that, but wouldn't a bright torch be much more of a giveaway, like the fire that Parvati started, than a small little _lumos_ light? Perhaps the Capitol put it in as a trick. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

_Or maybe they just wanted to help those who didn't know about _lumos_ or couldn't quite get it right with their wands. _

Hermione snorted.

_The Capitol helping. Right. _Luckily for Hermione, the cameras, should they be on her right now, didn't know what she had snorted about.

By the time she was finished sorting through Shimmer's—no, _her_ – belongings, the iodine had finished purifying Hermione's water. She quickly got up, feeling more energised at the very prospect of water.

She grabbed her water bottle and instantly began drinking. It was like relief flowing through her entire body. She instantly became more refreshed and overall felt much healthier with this new water inside her. She felt cool. When the final drop of water had fallen into Hermione's mouth, Hermione realised she wanted more. The process began all over again.

This time, Hermione chose to spend her time making traps for food. She packed up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, holding onto the drink bottle with her left hand. She walked along the forest trails, glancing around for animal footprints. She didn't know whether she ought to cast a simple immobilising charm on them or set up traps. In the end, she decided she ought to do both.

She conjured a rope using _carve retractum_ and then set up a trap by making a loop with the rope big enough for a rabbit's head to get through and tying it to a tree, making sure it was hanging at a rabbit's height.

By the time she'd set up several different kinds of traps around the area, Hermione realised her water was ready to be drank. Once again, she drank quickly, but did not finish it off completely, making sure to save some for a later time.

Hermione was glad she knew what she was doing. It gave her a sense of independence, confidence and self-assuredness. She could rely on herself, she knew that. She could rely on her mind, her instinct, her wand. It was reassuring, to know that she knew what she was doing.

Evening came around quickly, and Hermione barely realised it. Once she heard the beginning notes of the anthem, she looked up from her trap and saw the seal of Panem through the trees, the hologram hovering in the darkening sky.

_I better get into a tree and set up for the night. Let's hope no other tributes choose this spot; I honestly can't handle another fight like the one this morning._

She climbed up a nearby tree, making sure she remembered where all her traps were. By the time she'd reached a sturdy branch that she could make her bed, the anthem had finished, and it was time for them to announce who'd died that day.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly, unable to look at Shimmer's headshot, the picture of her and her gleaming, dark, determined eyes. No one else would be shown tonight besides the female tribute from District 2. Only she had died. No one else had died that day.

Hermione gasped and quickly opened her eyes. That day... the girl who had died yesterday, she would be shown. For some reason, Hermione wanted to see her, so that she could know her, could remember her, so that Hermione had a face and a name that could be connected to a memory. Sure enough, an image of Parvati Patil from District 8 appeared in the sky. Hermione swallowed thickly and looked up at the dark-skinned, dark-eyed beauty, who had died what was undoubtedly a brutal death. Couldn't she have done anything to prevent Cormac from going after her?

_No. You couldn't have. Don't blame yourself, Hermione._

Hermione nodded to herself and watched as the hologram disappeared and the arena was plunged into near-darkness once more. It was cold again, and Hermione gratefully pulled out her sleeping bag and thick blanket. She managed to wriggle into the bag and wrapped the blanket around her for good measure. Hermione once again cast a silencing charm and conjured a rope to tie around herself. Tonight, she was secure once more.

Once she was done setting herself up for bed, she sighed, thinking about all that had happened that day. She had killed someone. Unintentionally, of course, but killed all the same. If she hadn't cast that spell, Shimmer would be alive.

_You'd be dead, though. You had to do it, to save yourself. If you hadn't cast it, Shimmer and Cormac would have caught up to you and killed you. You never meant to kill her, she just happened to be underneath the branch when it fell. She was just... in the way. You had to do it._

It began to dawn on her just how awful the tournament was. The Capitol was forcing them to kill. The Capitol enjoyed making Hermione become a murderer. The Capitol relished watching her cry out, "_Diffindo_!" and seeing an enormous, extremely heavy branch land on an innocent person.

Tears began to form in her eyes as she realised what she'd done. She had taken away someone's life. Because of her, Shimmer would never return home. Because of her, Shimmer would never laugh with her friends again. Because of her, Shimmer would never take in another breath of fresh air.

The tears spilled over, streaming down Hermione's thin cheeks. Her hands instinctively came up to wipe her eyes, but something was holding them down. Hermione glanced down and remembered a rope was tying her down to a tree.

She let out a small snort. Now, she couldn't even cry properly. Because of the Capitol, she was crying whilst strapped to a tree.

_Then don't cry. Don't cry!_ Her thoughts screamed. _You're not weak! Don't show your weakness!_ At that moment Hermione realised that cameras could very well be projecting this display to every potential sponsor in Panem.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the tears on her face. "What's done is done," she murmured, hoping the sponsors saw her logic.

Instead of giving into the sensation of crying, she closed her eyes, adjusted herself as best as she could so that she'd be in a comfortable position, and fell asleep.

The next morning was still chilly and cold, despite the sun's rays shining down upon the arena. Hermione woke up shivering, and adjusted the blanket a bit tighter around herself.

_Not to worry_, she thought. _The Capitol will certainly heat things up later today, making the warmth nearly unbearable._

Hermione's stomach growled, and she looked down from her tree at her nearest trap. There was a small rabbit stuck there.

_Oh good, I'm starving._

She snapped the rope with a simple wave of her wand and came down the tree quickly after she'd packed everything up. With relief she took food out of her other traps; she would be eating today. She was so hungry that she'd decided to risk making a small fire to cook it - she did not want to eat raw rabbit.

That day she decided to stay low, so that no one would find her. Once she had eaten a sufficient amount of food, she'd decided to go back up into her tree and read. Mr. Bogs was right – she did get to relax, perched up in her tree. He seemed to have realised she would not be in the centre of all the fighting. It was a good thing she wasn't too, because it enabled her to read the book he'd given her, and in it, she'd learned a lot about many plants that she'd thought were edible but were actually poisonous.

She spent the day in the tree reading, taking a small sip from her bottle every once in a while. It was very relaxing, and she wished she'd been able to do this at home. There weren't many trees in District 3. The whole district was just homes and industries filled with inventions. The only trees were on the borders, the ones that led to the woods, and no one could ever go there.

No canon fired that day, and Hermione didn't know what to make of it. She knew that if there wasn't more action, the Capitol would get bored, and game makers would add in something deadly to make things more interesting. It was also worrying, because the more tributes that were in the arena, the more chance she'd run into one of them soon.

It seemed ridiculous that as soon as she'd thought that, she heard the rustle of leaves in a bush down below, and a flash of ginger hair poke through.

_Oh, dear Merlin._

Ron Weasley was right below her tree. He looked frazzled, with leaves in his hair and dirt on his face, and he had a wild, panicked look on his face. He seemed out of breath, but he did not stop to rest. Instead, he began climbing up a tree.

Up _her_ tree.

"Oh, no." Hermione murmured, and quickly got out her wand to disillusion herself. Ron did not seem to notice there was someone else in the tree too. Hermione did not have time to climb – Ron would notice. She couldn't go back down, either. It was obvious someone, _something_ was chasing Ron, and if she went down, she would be its next target.

She did not have time to cast the spell before Ron spotted her and let out a yelp that Hermione had not imagined would ever come out of his mouth. In return, she let out a small shriek.

"Shh!" He said, leaning over on their shared branch and putting a hand over her mouth. Hermione struggled against him. "Bloody hell!" He muttered. "If you don't shut up, he's going to kill both of us."

Hermione quieted, but continued to struggle against him. Ron seemed to understand and said in a quiet murmur, "You don't hurt me, I won't hurt you. Deal?"

Hermione wasn't entirely sure if she should trust him, but nodded. Ron appeared to have taken it as a sign that he could take his hand off her mouth.

"What is it?"Hermione asked him, crouching down next to him. "Or, rather, who?"

"Dunno," he murmured, keeping his eyes on the ground below. "One of the tributes."

They remained silent as they waited for something to run forward and destroy the peace. It didn't take long before there was another rustle in the bush and fifteen year old Terence from District 9 appeared.

Hermione got out her wand hastily. Ron tensed up for a moment, but did not look away from Terence. She tapped her head gently and disillusioned herself. She then quickly tapped Ron on the heard, and she heard him exclaim, "What in the bloody—" when he realised that he'd alerted Terence to their presence.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Ron said, looking back at the ground; his attention had been diverted when Hermione disillusioned him.

Terence was looking up at the tree, trying to figure out how to reach them. Hermione knew he couldn't get up onto the branch – there was simply no room, and they'd attack him before he could get there. Hermione was tempted to cast a spell at him, but none of her spells would last long enough for them to both get down from that tree and get a good head start.

She explained this to Ron, who greeted this news with another exclamation of, "bloody hell!"

"Is there anything else in your vocabulary other than those two words?" Hermione asked him, irritated.

"Nothing compared to yours, I s'pose?" he shot back.

Hermione rolled her eyes, adjusting her position so that her legs swung over the branch. Ron sighed and slumped back against the tree.

"So, how long have you been in this tree, then?" he asked conversationally.

Hermione glanced in his direction, then realised there was no point as he was disillusioned and near-invisible.

"I just thought since we're going to be up here for a while, might as well make the most of it." Ron said.

Hermione struggled not to smile. "Since yesterday afternoon." She said, in regards to the question he'd asked.

"Wow." He said. "So you slept here?"

Hermione nodded.

"Nice," he said, sounding genuinely impressed. "Lucky you haven't fallen yet."

"I take precautions." Hermione told him.

"Like what?" Ron asked.

Hermione paused for a moment, not sure what to say. Ron seemed to understand.

"You don't want to tell me, do you?"

Hermione shrugged. "We _are_ each other's competition."

"And yet you haven't tried to kill me." Ron pointed out.

Hermione let out a small scoff, faltering. Eventually, she managed to get out, "Nor you me."

It was quiet. "Yeah, I s'pose." He mumbled after a moment.

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them, the only sounds breaking it being the infrequent chirps of birds as they prepared for the night ahead. Hermione looked up at the darkening sky.

"They'll start to announce the deceased soon." She commented.

"No one's died today, have they?" Ron asked.

"Not that I've heard, no." Hermione replied.

"That's good, then..." he said and after a pause added, "Well, I s'pose."

Hermione's lips curved upwards into a small smile. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"You're not really into this thing either, I take it?" Ron asked.

Hermione turned to look at him. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "It's barbaric, it's cruel, and anyone who thinks otherwise is _sick_!" For a brief moment she wondered whether the Capitol was showing this on television, and whether she would lose sponsors as a result. She decided that she didn't care.

There was a pause. "Calm down," Ron finally said, sounding like he was struggling not to laugh. "Was only making conversation."

Hermione blushed. "Sorry."

At that moment the anthem began playing and Hermione looked up at the sky. This time, as soon as the music was over, nothing happened. No faces appeared, the seal simply vanished, and the arena was plunged into darkness once more.

"Blimey," Ron murmured, and Hermione noticed he was adjusting his position uncomfortably. "How do you get to sleep on these? I can't even sit properly on them for more than a few minutes!"

"You get used to them," Hermione said. "Just get into a good position."

"I'm trying!" Ron exclaimed. "It's just tricky to get used to them when..."

"When what?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I can't tell you," Ron said, sounding like he was enjoying this.

Hermione frowned. "What? Why not?"

Ron put on an annoying but accurate impression of Hermione's voice. "'We _are_ each other's competition.'"

Hermione snapped at this, even though she probably shouldn't have. "Oh, that is so childish!"

"You were doing the exact same thing!" Ron spluttered.

Hermione scoffed. "I do not put on silly little voices!"

Though they were disillusioned, Hermione could just _tell _Ron was rolling his eyes at her. "Right, because you're so mature, and smart and can pronounce the levitating charm!"

"Yes! That's exactly right!" Hermione said, not knowing exactly why she was so annoyed with him, when he was right – she _had_ not told him her strategies for the competition. She would not admit that aloud, though, least of all to Ron Weasley.

Ron seemed to have given up on this argument. "And to think I was actually going to... never mind!" he said, and turned his head to lean it against the tree.

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. After a few moments of awkward silence, she shifted so that her back lay on a branch behind her. She would have to risk falling to the ground; she wasn't going to let Ron Weasley see her tactic. It was alright, though. She could risk it one night. She usually didn't move much in her sleep.

She knew Ron wouldn't fall asleep now – not when there was someone below who would attack them if they both fell asleep. As long as one of them was awake, they would be all right for the night. Hermione felt an immature satisfaction at the knowledge that she won the unofficial battle of who would sleep tonight.

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in the cool evening air and covered her face with her arm. She heard Ron's deep, soothing breaths next to her, and she smiled at a little secret no one would know, because even though she was in an arena, fighting for her life, even though she was sleeping in a branch several metres from the ground, even though she was in close proximity to two tributes who needed to kill her to survive themselves, even though one of them was only a few centimetres away from her and angry with her, she'd never felt so safe in a long time.

I think that this chapter's title may be the second lamest chapter title in history (falling behind the other option my unimaginative mind came up with, which was simply, 'Trees')

I do hope that the title doesn't reflect the chapter itself, and that you thought it was okay. Please do leave a review: I love them. :)

_Trees: Destroying lives and bringing our ship together since the 61st Hunger Games._


	9. The Alliance

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 9: The Alliance_

Hermione woke up the next morning to find that the sun wasn't shining for once. The sky was overcast, grey and miserable, reflecting Hermione's mood perfectly.

What was wrong with her? How stupid and reckless could she be? Why did she have to start being such a fool in the middle of a deadly game? Mr. Bogs was right. Brains were her biggest asset, her most powerful weapon, and she had not used them at all the night before.

She had fallen asleep, right next to her competition! He was right there, right next to her, when she was at her weakest – not alert, not aware. He could've killed her and she would have been none the wiser. He could have pushed her slightly and she would have tumbled to the ground, to her death.

So why was she still alive?

Hermione tried to sit up, holding onto the branch that had been her pillow as she did so, and she noticed her orange blanket was wrapped around her, the edges tied together around the branch, keeping her in place. She frowned, noticing her pack, tucked between the trunk and the branch a little above her, was still open slightly.

Ron wasn't here, nor was the boy from District 9.

Ron had to have done this. There was no way anyone else would have. What had happened whilst she was asleep? How did Ron escape? Why did he not kill her when he had the chance? Why had he gone out of his way to make sure she didn't die?

The Capitol probably knew. All of Panem probably knew. She didn't.

Those lingering questions irritated her, continuously pushing themselves back into the forefront of her mind when she wanted to not think about them. She wanted to know, desperately.

Suddenly, she gasped, and quickly reached up to get her pack. She sat back down on the branch, her feet dangling over it, swinging as the gentle wind blew past. She placed her pack in her lap and looked through it, breathing deeply.

She got the answer that deep inside, she knew, but wanted to be sure of.

Ron hadn't taken anything.

He had had perfect access to all her things, everything that she relied on to survive. Nothing had been taken. Everything was there. The remaining crackers, the sleeping bag, the bandages, the torch, the iodine, the disinfectant, the bacon... actually, there _were_ a few less strips of bacon than there had been last time she'd checked.

But he hadn't taken anything, and Hermione felt a rush of appreciation and gratitude towards him for that. She was extremely fortunate to have fallen asleep next to _him_.

_You shouldn't have fallen asleep at all!_ Her mind chided her.

Hermione packed everything up and the ropes that Ron had tied the blanket with. They were the ropes she'd conjured earlier, before Ron and the other tribute had appeared. Evidently, Ron didn't know about _carpe retractum_, and had just used what he had to keep her secure in the tree.

So he'd actually made an effort to keep her safe... he'd actually thought about what he could do to ensure she didn't get hurt or killed... he hadn't just waved his wand. He'd actually tried to help her however he could, even if he couldn't use magic.

Hermione decided to go find another one of her traps and have some breakfast. She cooked the rabbit by making a small fire come out from the tip of her wand and moving it slowly across the dead mammal. She was being careful, extra careful, to make sure she wasn't spotted, because it was unlikely she would be as lucky as she had been last night.

It took a while, but finally, Hermione managed to finish cooking the rabbit and began to eat it as she made her way to the nearby lake to get some water. She shivered and she could feel goose bumps popping up on her skin underneath her jumpsuit as the wind blew by. It was certainly getting colder by the second, and Hermione knew it wasn't vindictive Mother Nature this time. The people of the Capitol were getting bored, and game makers were wondering what would happen if they made things cooler in the arena... literally.

It was eerie, the near-silence. As Hermione walked, the only sounds were her quiet footsteps and the soft rustle of the leaves as the wind blew. Hermione remained extremely alert as she continued walking. It felt like she was in a movie and about to be attacked. With a twinge of sadness Hermione remembered going to the movies back in District 3 with her family and watching stories play out on bright screens.

As the lake started to appear up ahead, becoming closer and closer, Hermione began to walk faster and faster to reach it. She needed to wait half an hour before having her next sip of water, and she was already thirsty. As she grew closer and closer to her goal, though, she noticed something on the other side of the large lake, something that made her pause for a moment.

There was someone standing on the other side.

Hermione squinted, trying to make out who it was, and wondered whether that person could see her yet. It appeared to be a boy, crouching down at the shore of the lake. He had light hair, Hermione could tell.

Could it be... Ernie?

Hermione paused, preparing to step out from the safety of the trees and closer to the lake. The person stood up and Hermione knew that it was indeed Ernie.

She stepped forward so that Ernie would see her. She knew he'd spotted her, and Hermione wasn't sure what would happen. Would he try to hurt her from the other side of the lake? It was possible, but for some reason, Hermione was confident he wouldn't.

_No, you're just _hoping_ he won't._

Hermione shook her head, trying to shake out the thoughts swimming through it. Her nerves ceased when she saw Ernie lift his hand up in an awkward greeting. He wouldn't attempt to harm her. With a relieved smile she knew he couldn't see, Hermione waved back. She bent down, calm once more, and began to fill her bottle up with water.

Hermione was so relaxed she found herself humming. It was no particular song, or tune – just a quiet _hmm _that mingled with the birds' pleasant music. Everything seemed all right, and she felt a sense of reassurance at the tranquility.

Suddenly, the birds stopped singing.

Hermione heard a shout and she quickly looked up, alarmed.

The peace had been broken, and Hermione was horrified at what she saw across the lake.

Ernie was lying on the ground, struggling to get up, whilst fourteen year old Perch Diamond of District 4 stood, pointing her wand at him. Hermione wasn't entirely sure what spell had been cast at him, but it had to have been painful, judged by Ernie's cry.

He wasn't getting up, and if he didn't get up, he would surely die.

_Oh Merlin, Ernie, get up! _Hermione willed.

Finally, Hermione couldn't stand it, and shot a stunning spell at Perch. It didn't hit her, for she was too far away for Hermione to get a good aim, but it distracted her enough and alerted her to their audience. Hermione gasped, shocked at what she'd done, frightened by the glare she knew was on Perch's face.

She could see Ernie beginning to get up, but she couldn't focus on him for too long, for a hex was coming her way. Perch seemed to have better aim than her, but her spell was not nearly as strong as Hermione's. Hermione rolled out of the way in time, the spell hitting the ground just a foot away from where Hermione's water bottle was. Hermione retaliated with "_Petrificus Totalus_!". Her aim was better this time, but Perch dodged that spell too, firing another jinx at her.

Hermione gasped, needing air. Adrenaline was coursing through her as she fired a hex back. By that time, Ernie had staggered up, and shot a spell – unknown to Hermione – at Perch. Perch, a little disoriented now that she had to deal with Ernie once more, quickly gained control once more and swiftly pulled out a knife, throwing it towards Ernie.

It was over just like that. A canon blasted through the air.

Hermione breathed in a little loudly. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of her. The blood had spurted like a soft drink after being shaken, and then the spurts stopped, and it began to spill consistently onto the ground, colouring the mud. It looked horrible, nauseating, even from the other side of the lake. Hermione couldn't imagine how she'd feel if she were standing right there, right next to Ernie and Perch.

Ernie was dead, she knew that. Perch was extremely skilled with a knife, even at the age of fourteen.

She did not seem horrified by the fact she'd just murdered someone. Instead, she immediately turned to Hermione, firing another hex. Hermione, stunned that their battle was still on-going, barely dodged the spell, but regained her composure, shooting another "_Petrificus Totalus"_ at Perch.

It continued on for several more minutes, them taking turns firing and ducking. Hermione eventually realised that this battle was useless and a waste of time and strength. It didn't help that she was terrified of Perch and her nonchalance after she'd murdered someone so violently and purposefully. Hermione crept forward to retrieve her water bottle and began to run backwards, not daring to turn her back towards Perch until she was out of sight.

By the time the shadows had crept over her and the lake was barely visible through the trees, Hermione turned around and began running, the remnants of adrenaline and horror haunting her, encouraging her to flee, as if that would help her forget what she saw, forget the way the knife pierced Ernie's skin, forget the way innocent blood spilled.

Hermione let out a sound, halfway between a sob and a moan and slumped back against a tree, her emotions catching up to her. She cried at the scene she'd witnessed, the battle she'd fled from.

"Hermione?"

Hermione screamed, spinning around, facing whatever had called her name from behind her tree."Harry!" she shouted upon seeing the District7 tribute and his messy black hair and dirty glasses. "Oh, oh my God! Merlin!"She had completely lost it.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, putting his hands on her shoulders. "God, you've got to calm down!"

It was Harry's stern voice that reached her, his fierce, determined expression that Hermione wondered ever left his face that caught her attention and helped her calm. She took a deep, shuddering breath, a few tears still on her face, but no fresh ones tumbling down anymore.

"Okay, good." Harry said. He stepped back and surveyed her. "What hap—never mind." He said. Hermione knew he didn't want any new tears to come out.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "I... I'm fine." She took another deep breath. "It was just... I just saw a rather gruesome scene."

"Oh," Harry said awkwardly, nodding. "Well, it's over, so..."

"Yes, yes, I know."Hermione said, not wanting to elaborate and tell him that just because it was over, it didn't mean it wouldn't haunt her.

"Okay, then... good." Harry said.

Hermione nodded."Yes, sorry. Thank you." She said gratefully.

"Yeah, don't worry."Harry said, and turned around to walk away from her. Hermione raised her arm up and used the sleeve of her jumpsuit to wipe her eyes, and began to turn around to continue on, though where she was going, she had no idea.

And then, "Wait, Hermione!"

Hermione turned back and looked at Harry.

"Listen," he began."I was wondering... do you have any alliances yet?"

Hermione faltered for a moment. _No, but for some reason I seem to be incapable of hurting anyone I've ever spoken to._"No, I don't. It's just been me, myself and I."

She saw the corners of Harry's lips curve upwards, then quickly lower back to normal. "Right," he said. "Uh, I was just thinking, maybe you might want to make an alliance with me?"

Hermione paused. She'd never liked the idea of alliances. Eventually, one of them would die, and she couldn't allow herself to get too close to anyone, or she wouldn't be able to deal with their death, or... if they decided to turn on her, she wouldn't be able to fight back.

Yet she found herself saying the word, "Yes," and following Harry as he led her to his makeshift home.

"So," Hermione began as they walked, the leaves and twigs crunching as their feet came in contact with them. "Is it just you in your humble abode?"

"Not exactly." Harry said, casting a sideways glance at her. "There is someone else..."

"Oh..." Hermione simply said, and for some reason, she just knew who it was already.

Harry seemed to gather this. "Yeah, we sort of agreed on it before the games, Ron and I."Hermione nodded to herself. She was right. "We also decided that during the games, I would go into the Cornucopia and fight, whilst he'd start running to the left, into the woods, but covering for me as he ran, and if anyone attacked me, he'd fire from the sidelines, which no one was really paying attention to. Thanks to Ron, I ended up with a pack that is pretty much the difference between life and death for us."

"Wow." Hermione said, gripping onto the strap of her bag tighter. "What did this pack contain?"

Harry pushed apart two branches of a rather large bush and Hermione gasped as the clearing behind them came into view. In that clearing, hidden from the world around by a number of bushes and trees, was a canvas tent.

"Oh, wow..."Hermione repeated. "Merlin, you were lucky!"

Harry grinned."Yeah, it's pretty cool. It's small, but, you know, it's warm and it fits the two of us in the day."

"And at night?"Hermione asked.

"At night, one of us guards. We take it in turns. That way, I can get about half a night's sleep, and Ron the same. With you, we'll have more time to sleep." He paused. "You... you don't mind, do you?"

"No," Hermione said."Not at all!"

"That's good." Harry said, looking a little relieved as they came up to the entrance of the tent."Oi! Ron! Come on out!"

The entrance flap opened and Hermione stepped back to allow Ron Weasley room to exit. He was shaking his head, ginger locks going wild, and murmuring, "Whazz goin' on, mate?" when his blue eyes fell upon Hermione. "What's she doing here?" he asked.

Hermione cast her eyes to the ground, trying to ignore the adorable way his hair fell back gracefully onto his head once he stopped moving. "Hello to you, too."

She saw Ron roll his eyes, and Harry spoke. "I've asked Hermione to join us."

"Join us?" Ron asked.

"To form an alliance with you." Hermione clarified.

"I'm not an idiot!"Ron exclaimed, and Hermione wondered why she'd ever shown any gratitude and appreciation towards him. Ron turned away from her and back at Harry. "Why?"

"She's smart." Harry said. "I've actually thought about forming an alliance with her from the moment I met her. The 10 proved it. She's worth having."

Ron sighed, and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him roughly away from Hermione. Hermione watched as they spoke in hushed tones, having a quiet argument amongst themselves. She noticed Ron casting quick glances at her, and she blushed, but didn't look away. She would not allow herself to be intimidated by Ronald Weasley.

Finally, she heard a resigned sigh, and she knew Harry won. Harry grinned at her and said, "Welcome aboard," as he walked into the tent. Hermione gave him a pleased smile and began to walk in after him, but Ron pulled her back.

"Stay here," Ron said.

"Why?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms.

"Look, I," he took a deep breath and looked at the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets."Harry's a really good mate," he began, "and he's got a good chance of taking out this whole thing."

Hermione patiently listened, impressed at the level of friendship the two had risen to in such a short time. During training, she'd noticed they had sort of clicked. It was as if Ron and Harry were made to be friends.

"I guess you can tell that Harry's good. I mean, he got an eleven." He explained. "So I trust him. I trust him a lot. I trust his judgment. And he trusts you."

Hermione nodded, and looked at the ground, whilst waiting for him to get out what he was trying to say.

"So," Ron continued, clearing his throat. "I trust you."

Hermione glanced up at him, a faint smile beginning to form on her face.

"We're going to be teammates, and we're going to have to rely on each other, so, I think we should be on good terms."

Hermione eyed him, wondering how he could have figured that out himself. "I agree..." she said warily.

"Yeah," Ron said,"so that's why I feel that someone owes someone an apology."

Hermione nodded. "I completely agree."

Silence filled the air between them as they waited for the other to say something. Finally, neither of them could take it.

"Well?" they both cried out.

"_I_ owe you an apology?" Ron elaborated. "Why do _I_ owe _you _an apology?"

"Hmm," Hermione said, taking a step back and putting her index finger on her chin in mock thought. "I come up to you on the first day of training to help you, even though we are against each other, and you don't even have the courtesy to thank me!"

"You didn't help me!" Ron retorted. "You _criticised _me!"

"I decided to come up to you, even though I wasn't supposed to, and help you successfully cast a spell that could very well be the difference between life and death in this arena!"

Ron faltered, but only for a moment. The next words that came out of his mouth signified that the argument was ongoing, yet Hermione detected the uncertainty in them. "Like a levitating charm could mean the difference between life and death..." he muttered.

"It could. But that doesn't matter. The point is, I decided to help you, even though helping you is not exactly helping me!"

It was the first time they addressed the fact that one of them would definitely die in the next few weeks. Ron swallowed nervously and said, "I did the same thing yesterday, you know."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, though she had no idea why – it seemed the admission, coming straight from the horse's mouth, confirmed it all. "I... yes, I know."She said quietly.

Ron didn't say anything in response.

"Why?" she finally managed to get out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ron was silent for a long time, but eventually murmured, "Why'd _you _decide to help _me_?"

It was Hermione's turn to not say anything, and she could feel her cheeks growing a little warmer. Finally, she said, "I guess I like being a know-it-all?"

Ron grinned, the awkwardness breaking somewhat, and Hermione couldn't help but smile herself upon seeing Ron's amused expression.

"You're..." he began to say, chuckling a little, "you're not that bad, I s'pose."

"Oh," Hermione replied, grinning at him, "you 's'pose'?'"

"Yeah." Ron said. "I mean, you seemed all right last night." He blushed, his ears turning a lovely red. "You know, before our little... debate."

Hermione looked away awkwardly, stifling a laugh. "You didn't seem too horrible, either."

Ron laughed, the sound melodious. "Right..." he managed to get out. "Thanks!"

"You're very welcome." Hermione said curtly, though something about Ron made her want to laugh – not at him, but with him. "Well, now that we've established that we don't completely despise each other, do you think we can make a good alliance?"

Ron's smile came off his face, and he looked at her for a good long moment. "Yeah," he finally said."I think we can."

"That's good."Hermione said quietly.

Another slightly uncomfortable silence surfaced, but Ron quickly ended it by opening the entrance flap. "After you." He said, a soft smile on his face. Hermione smiled back at him, murmuring a quiet _thanks_ in return.

The tent was quite small and plain, and there was only barely enough room for the three of them to sit. Even then, Hermione noticed tall Ron had to crouch and Harry had to slouch his back. It was cramped and squished, but warm – so pleasantly warm.

"I know it's a little crowded here," Harry said, "but at night, only two people will be sleeping here at a time, what with one of us on guard at all times, so there should be room for two of us to lie down. I mean, Ron can fit his whole body in and he's practically a giant."

"Hey!" Ron said good naturedly, whilst Hermione laughed.

"And he can just barely fit it in," Harry added to Hermione, which only made her laugh harder. Hermione only just reached the bottom of Ron's nose in terms of height. He was half a head taller than her, which could certainly intimidate her at times.

Immediately, Hermione felt a sense of belonging in the tent. She felt like she was meant to be with them – or that they were meant to be with her. There was a feeling of warmth, friendship and laughter about them that Hermione realised was the very thing that had been drawing her to them all along.

And she finally let it.

Darkness was slowly creeping over the arena, cooling the place even further, but Hermione was warm inside the tent, no longer hungry, either – it was a lot easier when three pairs of eyes and legs were able to search, and then share their findings with the rest of the group. Hermione had been in charge of preparing the meal, and it had irked her quite a bit, but she did not protest - she did not want to get on the wrong side of her new friends, especially Ron, with whom she had fixed things only a few hours before.

They'd spent the afternoon chatting, getting to know each other and recounting what they'd done in the previous few days, what they'd gotten up to. They had barely acknowledged that evening had arrived until the national anthem began to play.

"Should we go take a look?" Ron inquired, looking at the two of them. Harry nodded and began to make his way out. Hermione paused for a moment, but joined them anyway.

They stood in front of their tent, faces angled towards the cloudy sky. Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Ron, who was standing next to her, asked if she was all right. Hermione nodded and gave him a small, reassuring 'I'm fine' smile.

The anthem finished and Ron and Harry stood up a little straighter, eager to see who had died. Hermione watched as Ernie's name and picture flashed in the sky, and she sighed, feeling pressure behind her eyes. She tried to subtly wipe the tears away, but the boys noticed.

"Is that the scene you saw?" Harry asked. "Him... dying?"

Hermione nodded, still wiping her eyes.

"How did he?" Ron asked in a low voice. Hermione knew he meant _how did he die?_

She sighed. "A knife thrown at him. I saw it. And I couldn't do anything to stop her."

"He was from the same district as you..." Harry said.

"Yes, he was."Hermione said quietly. "The first person my age who'd ever said more than two words to me... nice words." Ron looked at the ground guiltily. Hermione shook her head, shaking all the harmless thoughts out of her mind. "It doesn't matter, though! I barely knew him! What's done is done. I'm going to bed." And she marched inside, unable to look at the two of them. She lay down on the cool canvas floor on her side, facing the wall. After a few moments, she got up again and retrieved her pack from her feet, placing it under her head as a pillow.

She still hadn't fallen asleep by the time Ron came into the tent. She could just tell it was him from the footsteps alone. He lay down awkwardly, their bodies pressing together, and she could feel his back against hers, radiating warmth.

This seemed to soothe her quite a bit, enough for her to fall asleep...

She woke in the middle of the night, and quite suddenly, too, but she didn't think she'd alerted anyone to her sudden awakening.

What had caused to wake?

Visions of innocent blood spurting out and spilling over mud, mixing and mingling to form a disgusting colour... images of a friend dying... a friend... because Ernie had indeed been her friend, even though she'd barely known him.

The tears spilled over her eyes and she began to cry quietly. She knew she had to let this all out before she could move on.

She heard something shifting, and she thought it was Ron moving in his sleep, but it wasn't, because a few moments later she felt something warm and large against her shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly and beckoning her to turn over. Eventually she gave in to Ron's request and she turned over to face him.

His eyes were wide and huge in the dark. It was difficult to see them well, though. There was worry in them, she could just tell.

"I'm fine... sorry I woke you."

She heard rather than saw Ron shake his head, and she felt his long, gangly arms pull her in, letting her rest her head against his warm chest, whilst he held her close, giving her a wonderful, pleasant hug.

She cried, allowing herself to. He did not say anything, but she could almost tell what he was thinking – that it was perfectly fine, and that he would be there any time if she ever needed to do it again.

_A/N Thank you for reading!_


	10. Budding Friendships

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 10: Budding Friendships_

Autumn colours graced the sky as the sun presented itself to the world, commencing a brand new day. Hermione smiled and leaned back against the tree she was sitting in front of, letting the light wash over her, feeling sleepy and at peace. She was extremely grateful for Ron and the way he'd comforted her the previous night. She felt much better, as if the tears had cleansed all the negative thoughts in her mind, the thoughts that had haunted her ever since the knife had pierced Ernie's skin.

Ron had woken her up in the middle of the night, shaking her softly until her eyes had finally opened, and simply told her it was time for her watch. He hadn't mentioned what had happened a few hours before or what he had done to help her. All he had said was, "Your turn to watch," and stepped out of the tent, giving her room to exit, before coming back inside and taking her spot.

It was ridiculous, in Hermione's opinion, how confused Ron could make her feel. It was not a feeling she was used to. One minute, she could be so annoyed at him, thinking him a pig, a git and many other things, but the next minute he'd smile at her and she'd melt and think him the most wonderful person she could know.

Hermione sighed, her smile leaving her face. She couldn't deny it – she was attracted to Ron. Just the thought of him made her want to grin. The sight of him made her want to hug him and have his arms wrap themselves around her and never let her go, much like the way he'd held her the previous night.

She didn't fancy him, goodness no. She couldn't. She barely knew him. She was attracted to him, though, and she hoped to Merlin that that was it.

Harry came out of the tent then, smiling at her. "Morning," he said.

Hermione smiled at him in return. "Good morning," she replied.

"It seems like a good one," Harry said, gesturing at the sun.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, straightening her back slightly so that she wasn't as uncomfortable. "Is Ron up yet?" she asked casually.

"No," Harry said, grinning. "He's not exactly a morning person, you see."

"Ahh," Hermione said, unconsciously making a mental note of it. "Yes, I do see."

"It's a shame," Harry said, sitting down next to her on the cool grass. "He misses out on this."

"Well, it's his loss." Hermione said, although a part of her desperately wanted Ron to join them – it would only make this moment better. She felt at peace whenever she, Harry and Ron were together. "I, for one, have always been a morning person."

"You seem like one," another voice called out, and Harry and Hermione turned around to find Ron standing at the entrance to the tent, grinning at them. "Morning." He said.

Harry gasped. "You're up!" he exclaimed in a teasing tone.

"Shut it," Ron said, giving him a gentle shove and sitting down beside him. Hermione laughed from the other side of Harry.

Ron grinned wider and turned to face the sun, squinting. "Blimey, it's so bright. How can you handle it?"

"It's beautiful."Hermione said simply, gazing at it.

Ron quietened and Hermione could feel his eyes on her for a moment, and then he turned to look on as the sun rose.

"It is nice, isn't it?" he finally said.

"What I'm wondering," Harry said, "is why you decided to wake up early today of all days?"

"It's not my fault someone woke me up when they were trying to get out of the tent. Your big feet kicked me a dozen bloody times."

Hermione smirked at their banter. Already she was feeling good, simply by being near them and their friendship.

"The tent is pretty tiny." Harry said, glancing back at it.

"It was big enough for me when Hermione was in it." Hermione blushed, but then tried to compose herself when she realised Ron was looking at her. "Oi, Hermione," he began. "What do you say we kick Scar-head out and force him to sleep in a tree? He's the only one of us three that hasn't."

"That's true," Hermione said, casting a sly glance at Harry. "You haven't."

"Hey, if we're kicking anyone out of the tent, it's Ron. He's the giant! And besides, he can sleep anywhere."

Before Ron could reply, his stomach grumbled, and quite audibly, which caused Harry and Hermione to burst into fits of laughter. Ron's ears turned red, but all he said was, "What? I'm hungry."

Harry stood up in mid-laugh, and looked at the two of them. "I'll go find us something to eat."

"Do you want one of us to join you?" Hermione asked, worried about him going out alone.

"No, that's all right." Harry said. "I'll see you guys later."

"Bye, Harry." Ron and Hermione said, Hermione adding, "be careful." They watched as he pulled away a few bendy branches to create a gap for him to go through. He then stepped through the bush and into the open forest, the branches jumping back to their usual places and blocking the outside world from view.

Ron looked back at Hermione. "Do you want to go inside?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, still gazing at the sun as it rose. "I'll stay out here for a little while longer."

Ron nodded. "I'll do that too." He said, then cast a look at her. "Unless you don't want me to...?"

"No!" Hermione quickly said, then blushed. "I mean, of course I want you to... stay."

Ron gave her a small, amused grin. "Cool." He said simply and turned to face the sun.

Hermione breathed in deeply, a dreamy smile on her face as they sat in a comfortable silence. It confused her, the way she and Ron acted around each other. It could change at the drop of a hat. One moment they could be laughing, the next rowing. At one point, they could be silent, the next, shouting at the top of their lungs. They could be sitting in an awkward silence, and then in a few minutes, Hermione would feel more comfortable than she'd ever felt before.

As they sat, Hermione realised there was something she wanted to ask him. "Ron?"

It seemed that Ron couldn't focus on the sun any longer, for he looked almost relieved when she said his name. His heard turned to face her, his eyes opening fully, no longer squinting. "Yeah?"

"What happened to that boy?" Hermione asked. "The boy that was chasing you. The boy that caused you to climb up a tree and find me? Terence?"

"Oh, him." Ron said, realising who she was talking about. "He stayed for awhile, and I nearly fell asleep, but eventually, he heard a rabbit and gave up on us. He went off to find it and he didn't come back. After awhile I figured it was all right for me to get down, so I did. Didn't want to wake you though, thought you needed the sleep."

"Oh," Hermione said simply. "Thank you."

Ron shrugged his shoulders casually, ears a little red. Suddenly he blurted out, "So, you and that guy were pretty close, then?"

Hermione's smile slipped off her face and she straightened up, glancing at Ron. "Sorry?" she asked.

"I asked if you and that guy that... you know, the one that… died, yesterday... if you were close?" Ron asked, his ears turning red again. Hermione gathered that he was embarrassed about reminding her of that awful scene.

"Oh, you mean Ernie," Hermione said, sighing softly.

"Yeah," Ron said, clearing his throat. "Ernie." After a pause, he added, "You must have liked him."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, I did. He was a very nice person."

"Oh, right. Yeah," Ron said simply.

Hermione frowned. "Or did you mean to ask if I fancied him?"

Ron's ears reddened further. "Well, just... just curious, you know. Conversation starter, and all."

Hermione blushed. "Ah," she said. "In regards to your question, no. I didn't. I didn't know him that well."

"You didn't?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione said. "Rather silly of me, to be so upset over his death. I hadn't known him at all before the reaping."

"Really?" Ron said, sounding surprised. He raised his knees up to his chest and rested his elbows on them. Hermione couldn't help but notice that it made his muscles more pronounced.

"Yeah," she finally managed to say. "But we got along quite well. He... he was very smart, and friendly. He..." her voice trailed off.

"He...?" Ron prompted.

Hermione blushed furiously, looking down at a few tufts of grass that were sticking out from a clump of dirt next to her. "He was the first friend I ever had."

Ron didn't say anything to this, but Hermione went on.

"It's embarrassing to admit, but it's true."

"No friends?" Ron asked. "Did that... does that include a... a boyfriend?" He leaned back a little too casually, stretching his arms so that his hands touched the ground and he could support himself.

Hermione's blush deepened – she could feel her cheeks growing even warmer. "I didn't have a boyfriend either. Ever."

She didn't look up at him, although a few moments later, wished she had, so she could've seen his reaction to that news. "You... you really had no friends?" Ron finally said.

Hermione shook her head.

Ron let out a large breath. "Wow, I..." he began.

"You don't need to say anything."

"Oh, good." Ron said automatically. Hermione looked up at him, giving him a small glare, but Ron had already realised what he'd done. "Oh, sorry, bloody hell, I didn't mean that! I mean... not many people have a good answer to what you've just said."

"I shouldn't have said it." Hermione said, leaning back against the tree.

"No, you..." Ron swallowed. "I'm glad you did. I'm glad you chose to tell me... thanks."

Hermione breathed in and out softly before answering. "You're welcome."

"And," Ron continued. "I stand by what I said yesterday. You're not that bad. You're actually... you're quite nice."

Hermione blushed and bit her lip. "Thank you." She said. Silence engulfed them for a few seconds, before Hermione broke it. "And, I want to thank you, Ron, for what you did last night." Before Ron could say anything, she also added, "and the night before."

The tips of Ron's ears, which had earlier managed to return to their usual colour, reddened once more. "I... I really... it was nothing."

"Not to me." Hermione told him. "Especially the night before... you saved my life. It's what made me trust you and Harry enough to want to form an alliance with you... thank you."

Ron gave her an awkward but pleased smile. "You're welcome."

Hermione shivered at the sight she'd been graced with – red ears and a gorgeous smile really made Ron far too appealing. She ducked her head down, lifting her eyes up to look at the sun and trying to avoid his hair, which in Hermione's opinion seemed to rival the sun's brightness.

"So what'd you do to occupy yourself?" Ron asked.

"Hm?" Hermione asked, glancing at him.

"If you, if you didn't have any friends... what'd you do with your spare time?"

"Oh," Hermione said simply. "I... I read."

Ron snorted. Hermione looked at him, a little hurt, and Ron apologised.

"No, sorry!" he hastened to say. "I just... it makes sense. You look like the kind of girl that reads."

"And what's wrong with that?" Hermione asked, glaring at him.

"Nothing!" Ron exclaimed. "It just... it makes sense. And reading is... reading is cool."

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smirk.

"So you just... you just read?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. "Reading was... _is _interesting."

"But District 3 is all about... you know, the technology... and all you could do was read?"

Hermione shook her head. "Most of the inventions we created made life easier, not more fun. We didn't have any particular snazzy games or electronic entertainment. Our work went into creating useful appliances like automatic doors and lights, coolers, the MDS – moving delivery system – the interactive positioned... all inventions that made work much easier."

Ron nodded slowly with a grin on his face. "I can see where you get your practicality from."

Hermione smirked and looked down bashfully at the ground. "Thank you." She glanced back up at him and asked, "what was life in District 10 like then?"

"Not nearly as exciting as life in District 3, I'd imagine." Ron said, grinning.

"No, really, what was it like?" Hermione asked eagerly, her hands tapping on her knees as if she were beckoning him for the answer.

"I... it was just herding animals around. It wasn't really anything special." Ron said. "We were the ones who raised the animals."

"Which ones?" Hermione asked.

"Cows, chickens... We had a horse, but that was just to help us herd the other animals." Ron said.

"Wow," Hermione said, genuinely impressed. "I wish I could see them."

"What's so exciting about cows, chickens and an old horse?" Ron asked.

Hermione blushed. "I've never seen one."

Ron's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Honestly? You're joking, right?"

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Where do you think I'd come across any of those in District 3?"

"Blimey," Ron said, looking as though he were appalled that Hermione had never seen the very things he'd been surrounded by his entire life. "You've seen some animals, right?"

"I've seen birds... when they fly by." Hermione said. "The only things I know about animals are the things I've read in books."

"Bloody hell." Ron said simply. "When we get out of this, I'm going to take you to District 10 and show you everything. You don't know what you're missing."

Hermione faltered for a moment. _I don't and I never will._ Before Hermione could voice the small flaw in his plan, Ron realised it himself.

"Oh... right. Sorry, blimey, that was stupid of—"

"It's all right."Hermione said quickly, not wanting to dwell on the fact that only one of them would return to their home district. "So what else did you do in District 10?"

"You seem really interested," Ron said, raising his ginger eyebrows.

"I like learning about things I don't know about," Hermione said.

"Yeah, I've noticed." Ron said, chuckling.

"Well?" Hermione asked, only making Ron laugh harder.

"I don't know what to tell you, Hermione." Ron said. "Life was pretty ordinary there. I hung out with friends, we'd play chess, I'd win, Seamus would sulk, Neville would watch, and then we'd play Quidditch with Fred and—"

"Played what?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowed.

"Quidditch." Ron said, so simply that it annoyed Hermione that she had no idea what he was talking about. The way he said it made it seem like it was ridiculous that she did not know. It irked her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that is," she found herself saying.

"Come off it, you can't not know what Quidditch is!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well, apparently I can, because I don't." Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"Bloody hell." Ron said, eyes wide. "It's only the most brilliant sport in the world! You play it on broomsticks – "

"Broomsticks?"Hermione asked in wonder. Whilst she'd known that flying broomsticks did in fact exist, they were banned from the districts.

"Not actual broomsticks, just toy ones." Ron said. "They only go about two feet off the ground, but at least it's something. You fly around on them and toss a giant ball to your teammates, trying to score a goal. There are chasers and keepers, obviously, and if you have enough people, you can also include beaters who beat a smaller, tougher ball around, trying to knock the players off their brooms."

"Dear Merlin," Hermione said. "It's a good thing you can't fall from too high then."

"No way!" Ron said. "It'd be so much better if we could actually fly, as high as we want, as far as we could." Ron sighed. "I tell you, Hermione, if I win this, first thing I'll do if I win this is buy myself a broom in the Capitol and fly on it."

Hermione smiled at his boyish charm as a dreamy expression crossed his face. Immediately, she felt a strong urge to keep that dream alive... keep _him _alive. Hermione let a frown cross her face for but a moment before returning to her former expression.

"Sounds like you had a lot of friends, then." Hermione said conversationally.

"Oh," Ron said, abruptly realising something. "I didn't have heaps, no, it wasn't that many, and they weren't, you know, they were really—"

"It's all right, Ron, I'm not upset." Hermione said, putting a reassuring hand just below his shoulder.

Ron immediately stopped talking and glanced down at the contact. Hermione pulled away her hand immediately. Ron cleared his throat, his ears turning red.

"You can... you can never tell with you." Ron said and Hermione had to pause for a moment to recall what she'd said earlier that justified such a response.

"Oh," she said, blushing. "I didn't think I was that bad."

"I may seem like a git who just wants to row with you, but really, I'm just someone trying to defend themselves."

"Who's a git."Hermione declared.

"Yeah, wait, no—"

Hermione started laughing and after a moment Ron joined her. This was how Harry found them a few minutes later.

"Having a good time without me, then?" Harry said, grinning, holding up a dead rabbit. Ron and Hermione stopped laughing and looked up at him. "Hermione, would you mind...?"

Hermione blanched slightly at the sight, still not completely easy with dead animals. She also didn't particularly like Harry offering it to her in particular – was it because she was a girl? However, she did not say anything, merely stood up and took the rabbit.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione began, turning to him.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Do you know what 'Quidditch' is?" she asked.

"Oh, that game that Ron goes on about?" Harry said. "Yeah, I do now."

"It's not just a game!" Ron said, sounding positively outraged. "It's a sport, it's an _art_!"

Harry and Hermione glanced over at each other, silent for but a moment. Glancing at each other, aware of the other's struggle, they lost it and burst into laughter. Ron's ears turned red, which only made the two laugh harder.

"An art, _really_, Ron?" Hermione asked in mid-laugh.

"It is." Ron said, in a surprisingly dignified manner. "Now, is the rabbit ready?"

Hermione shoved the rabbit into his hands, the smile completely wiped off her face. "_You_ finish it, if you're so hungry. I don't see why _I_ have to cook it. I cooked last night; why should I have to cook again?"

Ron looked at the rabbit. The expression on his face made it seem that he had never seen a rabbit before. "It's probably because you're the only one that has any idea how to cook."

"That's ridiculous." Hermione said. "All you need is a fire."

"We don't know how," Harry said quietly.

Hermione quietened. It was this kind of behaviour that had scared off potential friends her entire life. It always went down the same way – Hermione would display her intelligence, acting like one was stupid if they weren't like her, and this annoyed people to the point where they avoided her. She would not allow this to happen again.

"That's all right," she finally said. "I can teach you. It's daytime, so flames won't be noticeable, and we can control the amount of smoke."

Harry and Ron smiled at her gratefully and the three of them sat down to watch as Hermione prepared their meal. Hermione couldn't help but let out a giggle as Ron finally took a bite of food – what he'd been waiting for for a very long time.

"Well?" Hermione asked, awaiting his opinion.

Ron swallowed. "It's not as good as Mum's, but it'll do." Upon seeing Hermione give him a glare, he hastily added, "Don't worry! No one's cooking is better than Mum's."

Hermione rolled her eyes, shooting him a small smile. "My mother makes the best pasta in the world." She said.

"My mum buys roast beef from down the road," Ron said, "and let me tell you... it's the best roast beef in the world."

Harry gave them both a small smile. "Sounds really good."

"What about you, Harry?" Hermione asked, not wanting him to feel left out. "Anything special your mother makes?"

Harry paused for a moment, then shook his head. "No, not really."

Hermione was a little disappointed at the lack of a response, but persisted. "Maybe your dad, then?"

Harry shook his head once more. "No, he didn't either."

"Didn't?" Hermione asked, noticing the past tense.

"Didn't." Harry said, and after a moment of uncomfortable silence, finally added, "My parents are dead."

Hermione immediately gasped. Ron stayed quiet, but Hermione hastily burst into apologies. "Oh, oh, my goodness, Harry! I'm so sorry! I'm so dreadfully sorry. I had no idea! If I'd known I—"

"Wouldn't have said anything, obviously." Ron said, interrupting her. "Drop it, Hermione, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters, Ron." Hermione exclaimed. "Harry lost his parents and—"

"Yeah, I think he knows that. Just drop it, Hermione."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, Hermione." Harry said, a sad smile on his face. "It happened a long time ago. I... I was only a year old. I didn't even know them. It's all right."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, though quietly, and the conversation slipped into an uncomfortable silence. Really, she wanted to talk to Harry about it, but he didn't seem to keen on talking about his deceased parents and Ron wasn't a fan of it either.

_It'll help him, though._

_Help? It happened when he was one, he doesn't need help._

_It's good to talk about it, though._

_Drop it Hermione, you heard Ron._

_Since when have I ever listened to him?_

_Since he's right._

Hermione sighed aloud.

"Hermione," Ron finally said, swallowing his rabbit before addressing her. "Harry said it's all right. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, Hermione. It's fine." Harry insisted.

Hermione gave them both an awkward smile, which she had a feeling looked more like a grimace, and offered them another piece of rabbit. They both took a piece and earnestly smiled at her, trying to reassure her.

Immediately, Hermione felt a sense of calm and relief. It really was all right. Harry had forgiven her. Ron had helped her. The uncomfortable moment was over.

As Harry was distracted by his piece of rabbit, Hermione caught Ron's eye. She smiled at him gratefully. Ron gave her a small, lopsided grin and a slight shrug of a shoulder, which Hermione felt was much sweeter than a vocal, "you're welcome."

He hadn't finished making sure the discomfort ceased, for a sly grin formed on his face and he gave Harry a nudge.

"Harry," Ron said, turning to him, "I think it's time we showed Hermione chess, don't you?"

_A/N A few thank yous need to be said. Firstly, two to J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins, who created Harry Potter and the Hunger Games. Secondly, one for my beta, Sophie, who is still voluntarily reading this even though she isn't a Romione shipper (shock!). Thirdly, to F Maurice, who brought up the fact that I had not explained what happened to Terence when Hermione and Ron were in the tree in chapter 8. Fourthly, I thank _you_ for reading this and for (I hope) reviewing. :)_

_Chapter 11 should be up soon!_


	11. Chess

_Chapter 11: Chess_

"Chess?" Hermione asked as the boys grinned at each other. "I know chess, I've played it with my father many times—"

"Oh, brilliant, someone who knows what they're doing!" Ron said, rubbing his hands together excitedly and standing up. "Harry here doesn't know _anything_—"

Hermione let out a laugh as Harry rolled his green eyes. "I still don't understand why you want to show me this, though." She said to the two of them. "How can you show me – did you bring a chess set into the arena?"

"No, but I wish I did." Ron said, indeed sounding rather regretful. "Luckily, I managed to form an alliance with a brilliant bloke from District 7."

"Thank you, Ron, but that isn't going to make up for the fact you said I don't know anything." Harry said.

"I don't understand," Hermione said, feeling annoyed that she had to say that unfamiliar phrase. "What does Harry have to do with anything?" she asked.

Harry, who was already standing up, began to make his way into the tent. Hermione shot Ron a puzzled look but he merely grinned at her and said, "just wait." Hermione couldn't help but smile back – his moods seemed to be contagious. When he was happy, she was. When he was mad, it was very likely that she was, too.

Harry returned, holding a wooden box. "Is that your token, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No," he said and sat down opposite her. Ron joined them, beaming. Hermione watched as Harry opened the box. Inside were several figurines.

"May I?" Hermione asked, reaching forward to take one.

"Yeah, sure." Harry said, gesturing for her to go ahead.

Hermione reached out and took a piece. It was a stick that had been carved into a knight figure. The horse was quite detailed, right down to nostrils. Something in Hermione's head clicked. "Did you... did you _make_ this?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Ron was bored out of his mind, I was too, and Ron mentioned chess and we decided to take some twigs and transfigure them—"

"So you didn't make them?"

"No, he did." Ron said, looking a little left out and determined to add something in. "We couldn't remember or figure out the proper incantation—"

"Typical." Hermione said, shaking her head but smiling.

"So Harry decided to carve the pieces out of the twigs."

"How?" Hermione asked.

"I used my wand mostly but we used one of the knives in our pack for a bit of it." Harry said. "They're easier for me to use because I'm used to them."

"I'm going to set up the board," Ron said, and when he flipped the top and bottom of the box around so they lay flat on the ground, Hermione noticed eight thin lines going across and down, making sixty-four boxes when the two halves of the box lay side by side together. It was a chessboard without any coloured boxes.

"You use knives in District 7?" Hermione asked as they watched Ron put the pieces in place.

"Well, mostly axes." Harry said. "We use them to cut down trees, to make paper and furniture... things like that."

"You must have a lot of trees, then." Hermione said, trying to imagine what District 7 may look like. She never paid too much attention to it in reapings and city circles never showed a lot.

"Yeah, heaps."

"Oi, Harry," Ron said, placing a bishop on the board. "Did you know that this one," he nodded in Hermione's direction, "hasn't seen any animals in her life, ever?"

"I've seen birds..." Hermione said, as if that would impress them.

Harry's eyes widened slightly but he didn't look as shocked as Ron had been when he found out. "I suppose it makes sense but..."

"It's bloody mental!" Ron exclaimed. "I can't imagine a world without animals... what would you do all day?"

"I really wish I could visit your districts..." Hermione said wistfully, partly hoping the cameras might pick it up and play it around Panem.

"Yeah," Harry said sadly. "I've always wondered what all the districts look like."

They all remained quiet for a few more moments before Ron, unable to handle the gloominess that had surrounded the three of them, broke the silence.

"Well, I've got it all set." He said sitting up properly, for he had been lying on his stomach before. "Who's ready to lose to me?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly. Harry noticed this and said, "Oh, you think he's being arrogant as usual—"

"Oi!"

"But he's really good."

Hermione was still doubtful. "Really?"

"Yeah. But I'm sure I can beat him."

Ron snorted. "You wish." He chuckled and moved a pawn forward on the board.

"How do you two know which pieces are black and which ones are white?" Hermione asked. "How does it not confuse you?"

"It does." Harry said, sighing as Ron moved a bishop forward.

"Have you tried a colour changing charm?" Hermione suggested, leaning forward so she could see the board better. Her and Ron's shoulders gently brushed each other. "Oh, sorry," she said, blushing, and leaning away slightly.

"It's all right," he murmured, his ears red, his blue eyes leaving the board for but a moment to quickly glance at her.

Harry had ignored this small exchange of words, answering Hermione's question. "I don't know a colouring charm."

"Oh, I do." Hermione said, pulling out her wand. She then blushed, realising that she may have sounded conceited. "I mean, I... I'm familiar with it, but I could... I could cast it—"

"Yeah, go ahead," Ron said, gesturing to the board. "Hurry though, we're giving him too much time to think about his next move."

"I'm allowed as much time as I want, you know." Harry reminded him.

"Yeah, but you never think about your moves properly. If we give you enough time you're going to figure out the mistakes."

Hermione smirked, clearing her throat. "_Multicorfors_," she murmured, thinking of the colour black and tapping on one square. The square became as dark as the night.

"Wicked," Ron said, grinning. He got out his wand and pointed it at one of his pieces. "_Multicorfors_," he said, making his piece turn black too.

"Ron, continue changing your pieces. Harry, would you be able to help me with the board?"

Harry nodded and the three of them quickly managed to make the chessboard even more impressive than when Hermione first saw it. Ron in particular was especially happy when they'd finished – the chessboard looked brilliant and Harry had not managed to make a good move. As soon as they resumed the game and Harry had moved his piece forward, Ron grinned.

"See, Harry?" he said. "I'm going to kill your rook with my knight now."

Harry's eyes widened and he groaned. "Not again," he cried whilst Hermione laughed.

"Don't worry," Ron said reassuringly. "Rooks aren't that great, and you've got another one anyway."

Harry sighed and moved again. The game went on and Hermione realised that Harry was right – Ron certainly did have a knack for chess. Hermione continued to steal glances at Ron, watching as his eyes darted around the board, analysing the whole situation. Hermione was quite impressed by the sheer determination and concentration on his face.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to be getting more and more frustrated, which only made things easier for Ron. Sweat was forming on his forehead as he struggled to figure out how to get out of the mess he was in.

"God, you're good." Harry remarked.

As he looked up at his opponent Hermione caught sight of his scar. Curiosity got the best of her and she found herself asking how he got that unique scar.

"Yeah, Harry," Ron said, agreeing with Hermione. "I've been meaning to ask."

"I hope you don't think it impolite of us," Hermione said, trying not to annoy Harry or say another potentially insensitive comment.

"It's all right," Harry said. "And honestly, I don't know where I got it or how I got it." Hermione knew he was telling the truth. "I've had it my whole life."

"It's a pretty wicked scar, though." Ron said, grinning. "Of all the shapes that it could be, it happens to be lightning. It's brilliant."

"I wonder how you got it..." Hermione murmured. It really annoyed her when she couldn't figure out things or didn't know them.

"It really doesn't matter, though." Harry said.

"No, I know, I'm just curious." Hermione said.

"My aunt and uncle have no idea and they've been looking after me my whole life." Harry said.

"Hm," Hermione said. She wanted to ask him how his parents had died in the first place, but she didn't want to be rude or risk making things uncomfortable for all three of them, so she stayed quiet.

"That might not mean anything though, because they've never paid much attention to me." Harry muttered under his breath.

Hermione heard it, however. "Your aunt and uncle didn't pay attention to you?"

Harry shrugged. "They took me in reluctantly after my parents died and have resented me for ruining their lives ever since. They were only planning on looking after one kid, you see. My cousin, Dudley."

Ron snorted, most likely at the name. Hermione nudged him in the ribs, reminding him that he had to be polite as this was a serious discussion. Ron all but ignored this jab –merely proclaiming a soft 'ow' that only Hermione could hear – and said to Harry, "imagine what they must be thinking, hearing you talk about them on TV."

Harry let out a laugh at that. "Yeah, they wouldn't be happy. It doesn't matter, though. It's been nearly fifteen years of misery for me, acting like their slave, so I figure I have the right to say what I want."

Ron grinned at him. Hermione, however, frowned. She did not voice her concerns, but she was worried that perhaps Harry may lose sponsors by talking about family members who had taken him in when his parents died. People may think him ungrateful and he could lose support. Hermione noticed that Harry could sometimes be too headstrong and stubborn for his own good but she couldn't really criticise him for that, though - she could be rather headstrong and stubborn too.

"Blimey," Ron said, snatching Hermione away from her thoughts. "I can't imagine having to live with my aunt. Great Aunt Muriel, her name is. She's got to be the—"

"Let's talk about wonderful family members, shall we?" Hermione interjected. She didn't want to risk Ron starting a huge conflict in his family or him losing sponsors, either."Ron, I remember you saying you've got a brother."

"Yeah, I've got five."

Hermione's eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly. "_Five?!_" she exclaimed.

"Yeah," Ron said casually. "And a sister."

"So there are _seven_ of you?" Hermione asked, her eyes firmly on Ron, the game almost completely forgotten.

"Yeah," Ron said. "But Bill and Charlie and Percy – they're the three oldest ones – don't live with us anymore. All got brilliant jobs and moved out. So now it's just the four of us."

"_Just_." Hermione muttered, still in shock.

"Yeah," Ron said, grinning at her, and Hermione realised that he'd heard what she'd said. "Just me, Ginny and the twins, Fred and George. It doesn't really make much of a difference to the chaos though, with Bill, Charlie and Percy gone. Fred and George have always been the loudest and craziest of all of us. They hope to open up a joke shop that would sell heaps of joke items. You know, things that you could use to prank someone."

"That's brilliant!"Harry said.

"It'd be even more brilliant if they could use magic." Ron said to him. "They've heard of all different kinds of spells and they've come up with these bloody brilliant ideas that they can't use because they don't have wands."

"That's awful..." Hermione said softly, hating the Capitol.

Ron let out a small 'mm' in agreement. It seemed he couldn't bear the sad silence, because he quickly broke it. "They're still really good at pranking people without magic, though, so it isn't too bad... I tell you, I'd be frightened for my life if they could use magic."

This elicited a soft laugh from both Harry and Hermione.

"What about Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Ron moved a pawn forward and gestured for Harry to make his move before answering Hermione's question – the match was still on. "Ah, Ginny's the youngest but she certainly doesn't act it. Thinks she's all strong and can handle anything, but still picks the worst guys as boyfriends."

"Is she a rebel?" Hermione asked, frowning, for that did not seem like the sort of girl Ron would have for a sister, for some reason.

"She's got a rebellious streak, but she's really friendly and believes in the right things."_Aha,_ Hermione thought. _That sounds right._ "Me and her... we were pretty close... are, I mean." He said hastily. "We are close. We used to always run around in the paddocks, chasing the cows. Ginny's favourite was called Betty. That's the token she gave me."

"Your cow?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"What? Oh, no!" Ron said, reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit, the pocket on the left of his chest, and taking out a stuffed cow. "She gave me this toy cow she's had nearly all her life. She calls it Betty, after the cow we'd always chase. I dunno, I couldn't think of anything else to bring and when she came to visit me after... you know, after I was chosen, she gave me this. Figured it's better than nothing."

Hermione smiled. "It's very sweet."

Ron's ears turned red.

"I brought a toy soldier." Harry said, holding up a tiny plastic soldier. "Don't really know why, but just did it." He glanced at her. "What about you, Hermione?"

"My token?" Hermione asked. The boys nodded at her and she unzipped a pocket and took out the book Mr. Bogs had given her.

Ron let out a laugh upon seeing the book. "It figures." He said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's practical and easy to carry." She said.

"Exactly." Harry chimed in, chuckling too.

It was Hermione's turn to redden, though she was pleased that Ron and Harry seemed to know her fairly well already, considering they hadn't known her for very long.

"Your move, Ron." Harry said and Hermione noticed Ron jump slightly before turning back to the chessboard.

"Right, yeah." He said, shaking his head and leaning his chin on a freckled hand. Hermione watched as he surveyed the board, eyeing every detail about it. It was rather endearing, Hermione decided. It was quiet and she and Harry patiently waited for Ron to make a move. Eventually, he moved the queen away from the king, exposing him to a potential threat.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione asked. "In two moves Harry can checkmate you."

"I know what I'm doing." Ron said reassuringly.

"But the king is more important than the queen." Hermione said to him.

"That's what the books all say, Hermione, so obviously you'd think that."

Hermione frowned. "That's... that's because it's true! First person to checkmate the king, not the queen! Your objective is to keep the king alive, not the queen."

"I'm not going to be able to keep the king alive if I don't keep the queen alive."

"You could."

"It'd be a bloody hard job, it would." Ron said. "The queen can do anything, go anywhere. She can attack, she can defend. So, really, the queen is more important."

"And you feel it's more important to keep the queen alive than the king?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Well, yeah. In a way. I'd rather expose the king to danger than the queen."

Hermione swallowed and looked over at the board. Harry was frowning, trying to make sense of the mysterious move Ron had made. It seemed too good to be true. The king was out in the open and in two moves, Harry could checkmate him. Hermione still stood by what she said – the king was so much more important than the queen. One's objective was to checkmate the king, not the queen. The queen was just someone that needed to help keep the king alive at all costs.

Finally, Harry decided to move his rook not towards the king, but away, to the former position it was in. Ron raised the queen into the air and slammed her down next to Harry's king, checkmating him.

Hermione's brown eyes widened in surprise. How had she not seen that?

Harry seemed to be just as shocked. "Blimey." He said.

"Whilst you were mulling over what in the bloody hell was I doing, you forgot that the rook was also protection." Hermione grinned as she realised what Ron had done. He had managed to confuse Harry mentally as well as on the board. She was starting to get a brand new perspective and further appreciation for chess.

"Unbelievable." Harry said, shaking his head. "How did you know I wouldn't attack the king? How'd you know I would be confused?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. I could just tell. It was risky but it worked, in the end."

"It won't work on me." Hermione said, knowing that she had just pushed all of Ron's buttons by challenging him.

"Oh, really?" Ron said, raising his eyebrows, already starting to set up the board again. "We'll just see."

Harry smirked. "Go get him, Hermione. Beat him at his own game."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione said, trying not to blush when he said, 'go get him.' She really needed to keep her feelings in check. It was rather difficult to, however, when as she shifted so she was properly facing the board, her shoulder brushed Ron's once again and a tingling feeling spread through her body.

_Focus, Hermione. You can't fancy him. You just can't_.

"White goes first." Ron said, taking her away from her thoughts and back to reality, a reality in which she did _not_ fancy Ron.

Hermione made the first move, plopping a pawn two squares away from where it had been originally. The game had begun.

Move after move they made, attacking and defending. Hermione remembered how her father would play the game with her, giving her hints and tips every now and then. Ron certainly wasn't like that – he was out to win and he was doing a very good job. In a way, Hermione appreciated it – she was not one to be mollycoddled. However, it also made her very annoyed when Ron continued to take her pieces.

"He's good, isn't he?" Harry said to her.

Hermione nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Yes, he is."

Ron grinned, puffing out his chest slightly. "It's one of my many talents."

"Is being modest one of them?" Hermione asked. "Because it certainly shouldn't be."

Ron's grin merely widened. "Make your move." He gestured towards the board.

"Right." Hermione said, shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the thoughts plaguing her mind, most of them being how charming and adorable Ron Weasley's smile was.

The very thought dazed her so much that it resulted in her practically handing over her bishop.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" she exclaimed angrily, her competitive streak beginning to creep up within her. Annoyance at Ron was also joining it, even though it wasn't entirely his fault she fancie— merely found him attractive.

"Watch out, Ron."Harry said, grinning at his mate. "She's getting angry."

Ron tried to hide a smirk. Hermione chose to take his pawn with her knight. The minute she moved the pawn she gasped.

"Oh, no!" Hermione said. "Can I re-do that?" Whenever she played with her father, she could change her mind about a move... but Ron wouldn't nearly be as lenient with her, would he?

He wasn't. "No way."He said and plopped his bishop in the place of her knight. Hermione had been so irate that she had just wanted to take one of his pieces, even a measly pawn. She was so determined to take _something _of his that she hadn't realised that the pawn was being protected.

_Just focus, Hermione!_

Hermione sighed and buried her face in her hands. The boys were trying to hold back laughs, she knew it. Hermione glanced back up at them and pulled away her hands.

"All right. We'll ignore that minor hiccup. Let's keep going." said Hermione and made a move.

The game continued and Hermione felt that she did get better as the game progressed. Ron had a run for his money. Harry was looking very excited about the prospect of Hermione winning and beating Ron.

Move after move they made and the game seemed to last forever. Pieces were beginning to form a pile on the fresh green grass. Eventually, it was only down to a few of Ron's and a few of Hermione's.

Hermione nudged her queen forward, closer to the king's and checking him.

Ron sighed and looked up at her. "Blimey, Hermione, you're good."

Hermione smirked at him, feeling proud.

"But I'm better."Ron said and killed her queen with his knight.

Hermione's eyes widened. How could she have missed that?

After that, everything seemed to go downhill for Hermione. In a few more moves, Ron had cornered her king with his queen. Hermione wished she had her queen remaining.

Ron made one final move and proudly declared, "Checkmate!"

Hermione looked down at the board, the proof of her loss, and then slowly glanced up at Ron. His blue eyes were nearly dancing with delight. The right corner of his lip had curved upwards, forming a lopsided smile on his face.

_Oh no_, Hermione thought as her heart skipped a beat at the sight. _I _am_ checkmated._

_A/N Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed!_


	12. Inferno

_A/N Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I had quite a few reviews and PM's asking me for more action. This chapter, hopefully, will give you some. I'd also like to tell everyone now that not every chapter will contain a death or have an action scene or have something to do with surviving the Hunger Games. Character development is extremely important for me, and for this story in particular, which is why some chapters you'll see conversations between the characters, or see the change between them. It also gives us a break from all the death and action, because if we don't have a break from it, it will get repetitive and will lose its meaning, which we can't have. So there will be some chapters that will serve as 'fillers' and others that will focus on the games in particular. I hope I'll find the right balance and that you'll enjoy both types of chapters. (:_

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 12: Inferno_

The next few days went by uneventfully. The trio passed their time looking for food and playing chess. It all sounded quite repetitive and, frankly, downright boring but Hermione had never had such fun in her life. She'd completely forgotten the fact that they were in an extremely violent game that at least two of them would eventually die playing. Instead of thinking about that like a fierce competitor and a smart strategist, she'd gotten caught up in the thrill of friendship, getting to know Harry and Ron even further.

Whilst they played chess, the three of them would tell things to each other about themselves. Harry, for example, told stories about the many times he'd had to run away from his bully of a cousin. Ron told them about his brothers and sisters, so much to the point that Hermione felt that she already knew them and would love to meet them. Hermione shared stories about the inventions District 3 brewed up, as nothing particularly exciting or news-worthy had ever happened to her and her family – her family simply wasn't big enough.

Eventually, Hermione had suggested to them that they alter the game of chess and make it a confession-type game. Every time one of them took a piece, the other person had to share a fact or story about themselves. It made the game more interesting, which was quite useful, considering how often they found themselves playing it. Hermione was certain that if she returned home she would be the best chess player in all of District 3.

Ron, somehow, managed to get even better too – much to Harry's and Hermione's annoyance. Eventually, they grew so tired of being beaten by Ron that they simply refused to play with him. Ron had called them sore losers and told them that they had to play with him some time. In the end, they did play with him again but they all knew that matches between Harry and Hermione were much more interesting.

Harry and Hermione were on the same level in chess. Hermione had won the first four games but after that Harry had begun winning – he'd gotten the hang of chess and they were both forced to play as well as they could after that if they wanted to win. The games were tough.

The benefit of playing with solely Harry, however, was that Ron quickly grew bored of simply watching and began to assist each player. Hermione told him it was unfair of him to just call out instructions for the opponent to hear, so each game he sat next to either Harry or Hermione and assisted them. Hermione noticed that Ron sat behind her and whenever he'd whisper instructions into her ear she'd feel shivers racing down her spine and goose bumps jump up all over her skin.

It was a wonderful couple of days. She blamed herself for not realising what would eventually happen.

Early in the morning, Hermione was shaken awake by Harry. He'd decided to take the third and final watch of the night, so Hermione was wondering what he was doing waking her.

"Harry?" Hermione asked groggily, accidentally brushing her hand against Ron's stomach as she lifted herself up onto one elbow. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Harry said, nodding his head. "I just thought we should get some food. We're running a bit low, so I'm just going to go look for something for us to eat."

"Okay," she said.

"I just thought I ought to tell you, in case you wake up and can't find me. Also, one of you should be awake and on guard, and I figured you're the one that's least likely to kill me if I wake you."

Hermione let out a small laugh as Harry gestured towards Ron, who was still asleep and occasionally letting out a soft snore. Hermione was deeply concerned to find that she found it absolutely adorable and that sleeping next to him was a huge source of comfort for her.

"Thank you for letting me know, Harry." Hermione said.

Harry turned around and began to walk away.

"Wait, Harry!"Hermione exclaimed, sitting up completely. Ron shifted a bit in his sleep, moving slightly closer to Hermione, but he did not wake.

Very quickly the entrance flap opened again and Harry's head was poking through. "What is it, Hermione?"

Hermione was alarmed at the worry in Harry's green eyes and immediately hastened to get rid of it."Nothing's wrong, don't worry." She said. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm fine." Harry said, pushing his glasses up. "What did you need?"

Hermione sighed, the reason she called him back partly forgotten. "Did you break your glasses again?"

Harry reached his hand up to his face once more and pulled the glasses off to examine them. "Suppose I did." He said, though Hermione realised that he may not be able to see the crack in his glasses due to his poor vision.

"_Reparo_," he murmured, pointing his wand at them. Hermione smiled at the sight of him using a spell she'd taught him and watched as he put them back on his face. "Thanks, Hermione." He said. "Now, what is it?"

"Oh," Hermione began, "I just thought that we'd get more work done if you go search for some animals and I can go look for some berries and fruits. There would be more food and a bit more variety. I've finished reading _Herbs and Plants: A Guide_, and I'm positive I can find some safe food for us."

"Sounds good," Harry said. "But then we've got to wake this sleeping beauty," he pointed towards Ron.

"No need," they heard and Hermione turned her head to look at Ron. He was shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. His ginger hair stuck out in crazy angles and Hermione had to stifle a giggle. She then wanted to frown – since when did Hermione Granger giggle?

She tried to hide her embarrassment with a simple but polite, "Good morning."

Ron smiled at her. "Morning," he said in a low voice.

"Did you hear what we said?" Harry asked.

"Something about Hermione getting berries and fruits and something about a book. Made me want to fall back asleep."

"Very funny," Hermione said, shoving him playfully. He grinned up at her through a few carrot-coloured strands that hovered over his eyes.

"Just make sure you _don't_ fall asleep, Ron." Harry said, that familiar determined look crossing his features once more. "We're most vulnerable when we're asleep. You can't be alone and asleep."

"Yeah, mate, don't worry." Ron said, sitting up. "I slept well last night."

"Good," Harry said, shuffling back slightly so that he could leave the tent. "See you, mate."

Hermione turned back to Ron. "I'll see you soon, then." She said softly.

Ron glanced at her. "Yeah, see you." He murmured, just as softly.

Hermione lifted herself up onto her toes, crouching, and came out of the tent and into the open. The first thing she noticed was that it was extremely windy outside.

"Yeah," Harry said, noticing her surprise. "It's pretty wild out here. Picked up about half an hour ago."

A few loose strands of hair blew into her face and she brushed them aside hastily. "Let's get going." She said, walking over to the bush and pulling it aside. Harry followed her and they stepped out from their hideaway into the rest of the forest.

They conversed casually as they walked, searching for food. They would soon meet a fork in the trail, one that would lead to some bushes and one that would continue on. Hermione would go to the bushes and Harry would continue on looking for any meat.

Suddenly Harry stopped and Hermione stopped with him.

"Rabbit," Harry murmured, taking a small step forward towards the rustling bush. Hermione stayed back and watched. "_Stupefy_," Harry said, firing a hex at the rabbit. The rabbit froze and fell to the ground.

All of a sudden Hermione smelt something odd. She took another whiff and turned her head upwards. Hovering above them was smoke.

Hermione gasped and looked forward. Flickers of fire were bursting up through the bushes and they were getting closer and closer towards her and Harry.

"Harry!" she screamed.

Harry glanced up suddenly, the rabbit still in his hand. "Hermione, what...?"

She pointed behind him and he whirled around. "Oh, hell!" he shouted.

Hermione raced forward, grabbed his hand and began dragging them away. "We've got to get out of here!" she yelled.

They ran as fast as they could and very soon Harry was the one leading. Hermione had been right in assuming he was fast – _very_ fast.

It was getting hotter and hotter and Hermione knew that the fire was catching up to them. The running wasn't doing much to help.

"Is it a genuine fire or is it targeted at us?" Harry yelled.

Hermione could barely hear him over the roaring flames. She could see the familiar bushes around their tent clearing and one thought gripped her mind – Ron. "We have to get onto a different trail to find out and make sure that if it _is_ targeted at us it doesn't reach Ron!"

It appeared that Harry had managed to understand her long message despite how loud the roaring fire was. They turned onto a different trail and the fire seemed to curve like a snake after them.

"We can outrun it!" Harry shouted. "If we curve around the fire and run back to the tent—"

"NO!" Hermione cried vehemently. "It will still follow us and there's no way I'm going to bring it back to Ron!"

Harry understood and continued running away from their tent. Really, they couldn't run back even if they wanted to. The fire was too fast.

"_Aguamenti_!" Hermione exclaimed, knowing already it was hopeless. The jet of water that came out of her wand wasn't nearly as strong as the fire.

"Together!" Harry yelled. He let go of her hand to get out his wand – the rabbit was amazingly still in his hand. Hermione nodded determinedly and together they pointed their wand back at the fire and shrieked "_Aguamenti_!"

The large jets of water helped but not much. They did, however, give them a bit more time to get further ahead.

Then the trees began to fall behind them. "Duck, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, for she was a little ahead of him.

Suddenly she was whisked back to when a tree much like this one crashed down onto the ground and squashed, flattened, _killed _an innocent person. Lifeless eyes, broken bones—

"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked.

But Harry was fine. He was quick and had great reflexes. He dodged everything that came his way and continued running.

"Keep going, Hermione, I'm fine! Keep going!" he kept on saying.

Hermione, however, wasn't running as fast as she could. Her mind was cloudy and fogged up, much like the air around her. The smoke being inhaled into her lungs was hindering her breathing and she was so tired.

Hermione gasped, trying to get as much air in as possible.

"Hermione, come on!" Harry said and Hermione staggered forward. She could hear him coughing and knew he was struggling too.

The gaming officials would stop the fire once someone was killed. Hermione knew that. She just had to make sure it wasn't her or Harry. The fire had to be affecting someone else, right?

_You've got to keep running, keep running!_

Hermione began to run as fast as she could in her condition, Harry's words of encouragement making her run faster. She could do this. They could do this. They could survive.

In the distance she could make out a scream, one that did not sound familiar. So there _were_ others who were in trouble, and if they were killed first the gaming officials would feel the excitement was back and would end the fire. She and Harry just had to out-live whoever it was.

"LOG!" Hermione exclaimed, as she saw an oncoming fallen tree. She jumped over it swiftly and continued running.

She'd managed to get a few metres away before she realised Harry wasn't with her.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed, turning around and realising Harry was still stuck at the log. She could only see his head, for he was slumped on the other side of the log.

She had a choice –continue running or help Harry.

No.

For Hermione, there was no choice.

She turned around and raced back to the log. Her legs were moving surprisingly quickly. She was determined to get Harry out of there.

"_Aguamenti_!" Hermione shrieked at the roaring blaze, trying to slow it down.

Suddenly, another flash of orange appeared in front of her. For a second, Hermione thought it was another fire meeting them, but then Hermione realised that it was no fire – it was Ron.

"RON!" Hermione shouted as she realised he was running straight towards Harry and the fire. "RON!" she yelled again.

He briefly turned his head to look at her. "Keep running!" he yelled back at her. "Keep running!"

"NO!" Hermione said, staying put and stomping her foot for good measure, child-like as it was. She was gripped with another wave of fear as she saw Ron running towards the fierce flames. Immediately she realised she couldn't bear the thought of Ron dying, much like Harry. "RON, GET BACK! COME BACK, YOU IDIOT!" She had no idea why she was so angry at him for something she was going to do anyway.

She watched as Ron pulled Harry up and slung Harry's arm around his shoulder. Ron was murmuring something to his friend and Harry blearily looked up ahead and tried to hop. There was something very wrong with his right leg.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed as he caught up to her. "What, are you crazy? What are you still doing here?"

"Are _you_ crazy?" Hermione said as they began running as fast as they could. "Did you honestly think I would leave you two?"Hermione was slightly ahead of them, because Harry was still being supported by Ron. Harry, however, was hopping, trying his best to not be a nuisance or slow them all down. Once again, Hermione was extremely amazed by Harry's sheer determination.

"But I told you to get out of here—" Ron began.

"Since when have I ever listened to you?" Hermione countered.

"Would you two stop your bickering, just for a moment?" Harry yelled. "I will _not_ die because you guys were too busy arguing with each other to get out of here!"

Hermione immediately looked away from Ron and at the track ahead of her. _Focus, Hermione_, she found herself thinking yet again.

"The fire's catching up to us!" Ron shouted.

"We just have to keep running!" Hermione instructed, although she wasn't sure how long she could keep that up. "Certain parts of the arena..." she had to stop as they jumped over another log. "Certain parts of the arena are designed for specific disasters that the game makers want to put into the arena. This is a controlled fire and they can't burn down the whole arena with it!"

"What's your point?"Ron asked.

"My point is that eventually we'll get to a part of the arena that doesn't allow the fire to continue. We're currently in the fire zone—"

"Oh, really?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"But eventually the fire will have to stop and it won't reach us in whatever area we're in."

"So you're saying we have to get there before we turn into toast?" Ron said.

"Exactly!" Hermione said, jumping over a rock.

"Ron, let go of me, I think I can hop faster on my own—" Harry began and Ron quickly let go of him and watched as Harry began hopping with all his might as quickly as he could. He was, indeed, faster.

Ron glanced back at the fire behind them and let out a gasp, which was followed by a cough. "Bloody hell!" he said, running to catch up to Harry and Hermione. "It's huge!"

The smoke was really starting to get to Hermione. She covered her mouth and nose with her arm and tried to shield herself from the smoke.

"We've got to be nearly there!" Harry said. "It must be close—"

Suddenly, a canon fired. "Someone was killed!" Hermione exclaimed. "This will be enough entertainment for the Capitol. They won't mind if the rest of us survive!"

"That's awfully nice of them, innit?" Ron said.

"Come on, we've just got to keep—" Hermione coughed, "keep going!"

It seemed that Hermione's logic had helped Harry and Ron. It encouraged them to renew their determination to get out of this.

"We're nearing the lake!" Harry cried and Hermione turned in time to see a grimace on his face. She made a mental note to herself to take care of his leg once they were out of this mess.

Because they would get out of this.

Suddenly, Ron pulled them back.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

Ron did not say a word and dragged them into some trees on the banks of the lake. "Stay here!" he told them, pushing them back against the tree. Harry immediately slumped down onto the ground. Hermione glanced at the fire and realised that it was flickering but not moving forward. They were not getting burnt at all.

"Ron, we need some water," Hermione said, stepping forward and out of their hiding place amongst the trees. "Can't we just go a bi—"

"No chance in hell." Ron said, pulling her back. His arms were on either side of her, leaning against the tree, preventing her from getting out.

"Ron, honestly, what are you—"

With his head he gestured towards the shore of the lake, where they could just make out two Career tributes, fighting and firing hexes. One of them was fourteen year old Perch Diamond, whose deep red hair was easily distinguishable. The other seemed to be Lavender Brown. If Ron hadn't stopped them from taking a few more steps forward out into the open, Perch and Lavender would have spotted them.

Hermione looked away from the fight and back at Ron, who was standing rather close to her. "How could you have seen them?" Hermione asked him.

"I didn't." Ron said honestly.

"Then how did you—"

"I knew they were there." Ron told her.

Hermione frowned. "What, how did—"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Ron said. "The game makers wouldn't just want a fire to kill off the tributes. They want action, blood and gore, and they need to bring the tributes together. It just makes sense that they'd use the fire to corner everybody into one central place and get them to fight."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, surprised.

"Once I heard someone scream, it just confirmed everything, you know? I knew we weren't the only ones being affected by this fire, that there were others and they were being chased by the fire too. Obviously we'd be chased into one spot with everybody else."

Hermione let out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding. "That... that's very clever of you, Ron."

Hermione smiled slightly as she saw Ron's ears turn red. He grinned sheepishly and said simply, "You're not the only smart one around here."

Hermione let out a small laugh. "I just don't understand why I didn't see that." She said after a pause.

"Hermione, it makes sense that you wouldn't." Ron told her.

"Why?" Hermione asked, feeling a little insulted.

"There's a difference between being good at chess and being brilliant at it. You're good."

"What on earth does that have to do with anything?"

"You're good at chess because you only think about one piece at a time. You never see the whole board. I do."

Hermione's eyes widened in understanding. "That... that does make sense." The Hunger Games was indeed a game of strategy. Ron was an excellent strategist. It made sense that he treated it all like it was chess, and his strategy worked.

The wind blew at that moment and some loose hair flew into Hermione's face. "Oh, gosh." Hermione said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She then realised that most of it had come out of the plait she'd pulled it into at the beginning of the games. She pulled off the elastic band that was still wrapped around some of her hair and began to re-plait all over again.

"No, don't," Ron said, putting his freckled hand on Hermione's wrist. She stopped and simply looked at him. He blushed furiously. "I haven't seen it out in a long time. It... it looks nice out."

A hiss interrupted the two of them and Hermione's attentions were quickly directed towards Harry. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. "Oh, goodness, dear Merlin, I'm so sorry. Let's... let's take a look at that."

Harry groaned and pulled up the right leg of his trouser. On his ankle was a burn that seemed to have gone through two layers of skin. It looked quite painful.

"All right, uh... we need... we need water..." Hermione said, panicking. "Water..."

"_Aguamenti_," Ron said, pointing his wand over the wound and allowing the water to pour over it.

"We need a cloth." Hermione said. "You didn't happen to bring your bag with you—"

"No, it was all too sudden." Ron said, shaking his head.

"I can rip off a bit of my shirt." Hermione said and unzipped her jumpsuit up to her belly. She grabbed the end of her shirt and ripped a small section. Quickly, she zipped the jumpsuit back up and wet the fabric with the water charm. She then placed it on Harry's burn. "We'll need to keep in there for awhile." Hermione glanced up at Ron. "What's happening with the fight?"

He craned his head a little higher, trying to see as much as he could without standing up again. "Dunno," he finally said. "I can't see Perch. Lavender seems to be on the ground..."

"She can't be dead," Hermione said. "The canon would have fired."

"Yeah, but she doesn't seem to be moving." Ron said. "I think she'll be dead soon..."

Hermione swallowed nervously, feeling horrible that she was sitting idly and allowing the girl to die. She tried to find a distraction for herself and fortunately, Harry provided one.

"How'd you get to us, Ron?" he asked.

Ron looked away from the fight scene and back at his friends. "Oh, I... I don't really know exactly. I could smell smoke in the tent so I got out and took a whiff. I realised it was fire but when I opened the bush opening, the fire seemed to have curved along a trail instead of moving forward and reaching me."

"It means, most likely, that our tent was in a different area, one that wasn't designed to let fire through." Hermione explained.

"So our tent is still okay, then?" Harry asked hopefully.

Ron paused to think about it. "Yeah, it should be, then."

They all sighed with relief.

"I realised you guys were still out there," Ron continued, "so I decided to run along with the fire, on the side of it. It wasn't coming towards me so I figured it was alright. I tried to find you guys and eventually I did."

After a pause, Harry finally said. "We can head back to the tent, then. I think I'll be fine."

"No, don't worry about that." Hermione said firmly. "Stay here. We'll all stay here, for a little while."

They quietened, no one saying anything. Eventually, Ron broke it.

"At least breakfast's ready." He said, gesturing towards the cooked rabbit still in Harry's hand.

_Thank you to everyone for your on-going support. Things have been getting a little hectic in my life, and so I've found little time to write, which means I've fallen behind with The Cruel Irony. In order to stop myself from falling even further back, which would result in extremely long waits between chapters, I'm going to have to spread out updates a little more. So, instead of 5-7 days, it may take 7-9 days for the next update. I've just got a few upcoming events like tennis finals, a performance and a holiday which will eat up my time a little more. I also would like to take a break and write a one-shot for Hermione's birthday, so I need to be a bit more ahead with The Cruel Irony so that I can focus on that. I hope you don't mind waiting one or two more days for your chapters, just for a few more weeks._

_As always, I'd love it if you could review and let me know your thoughts on it. If you have any questions about the story or updates or anything else, you can PM me and ask away. I don't bite. ;)_


	13. Aftermath

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 13: Aftermath_

Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed quiet as they sat underneath the trees. The wind was still strong but had died down a little, calming slightly. It only confirmed Hermione's suspicions that the game makers had planned this fire. She was quite angry at the thought that they'd actually intervened and purposely tried to kill her, but she wasn't surprised. Who would expect any less of the Capitol, especially in the Hunger Games?

It appeared that Harry and Ron were just as angry as she was. Harry seemed to be recovering or at least getting used to the pain but he had a frown on his face, his green eyes locked on the cloth tied around his ankle. Ron was surveying the scene by the shore. His head was turned in such a way that his profile was to Hermione. His jaw was firm and strong.

"Are you all right?"Hermione asked him.

"Yeah," Ron said, nodding, turning back to them.

"She's dying..."Hermione commented softly, turning her head away from Ron, because if she looked at him, she would be able to see Lavender's limp body too.

"Yeah," Ron murmured, swallowing thickly. "Do you think anyone else will join us at the lake soon?" he asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "I hope not."

"They'd have shown up by now," Harry said. "They'd be here."

"Unless they're hiding," Ron said darkly. "We're doing it, why wouldn't they be?"

"That's true," Hermione said quietly. "Although, do they really need to stay here?" she pointed out to them. "We're only here because we need to help Harry recover for a little while. The other tributes are most likely uninjured and would have gone back to wherever they came from. They don't really need to stay at the lake. Why do you ask, Ron?"

Ron pointed at a small first aid kit lying out in the open, a few metres away from the shore. "I dunno whose it is, but I figure it'd help Harry and it's worth having."

"No, we don't need it." Harry said. "Or, at least, not for me."

"Harry, it's not such a bad idea." Hermione said in what she hoped was a calm manner.

"No, you two are not going out there." Harry said, crossing his arms.

"Harry, you're beginning to sound like Hermione." Ron said, gesturing towards Hermione. She rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't need you two risking your lives just to get a stupid first aid kit." Harry said firmly.

"Harry, we may need it later on." Hermione told him. "It would be very good to have."

"I'll go get it then," Harry said, wriggling his bottom off the floor and trying to push himself up with his left leg.

"Are you mad?" Ron asked incredulously. "You are. I think the smoke's gotten to you."

"What?" Harry asked, sounding annoyed.

"Harry, you can't seriously be thinking you're going to get up and go out into the open, where anybody can see you and attack you, when you can barely walk?" Hermione said.

"Well you can't—"

"Watch me." Hermione said, standing up and beginning to march out of their hiding place. Then, all of a sudden, she was pulled back.

_Dear Merlin, Ron Weasley is strong._

"What, Ron?" she asked.

"You two are both barking mad." Ron simply said. "You're not going out there."

Hermione tried to cross her arms, but Ron's grip on her stopped her. "What makes you say that?"

"I'm not letting you go out there—"

"I don't need your permission." Hermione said.

"Hermione, it's dangerous—"

"Well, one of us is going to have to go, aren't they?" Hermione reminded him.

"Yeah, it should be me, because—"

"Oh, both of you go!" Harry said from his spot on the ground. Hermione glanced back at him and she saw Ron do the same. Harry managed to form a grin. "No one's going to win this argument, so we might as well skip it and let both of you go. Besides, you'll have each other's back, and I'll guard from here in case anything comes out that you two can't handle."

Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron and they both seemed to be in agreement. "That sounds like a good plan." Hermione said and Ron nodded.

"Should we go now, then?" Ron asked her, extending a large freckled hand out to her and grinning, trying to ease the tension that had crept up earlier.

"Yes, let's."Hermione said, letting out a soft laugh and linking her arm around his.

"Keep an eye out, Harry." Ron told him. "I didn't see anyone before, but, I've only got two eyes, you've got four..."

"Shut up, Ron,"Harry said, though he was grinning. "Now get out of here before I attack you myself."

They all laughed, albeit quietly, so there was no chance anyone else might hear them. Ron then gestured to Hermione with his head, indicating that they'd better go. Hermione nodded and let her arm slide out of his so she could get her wand out and ready.

"I'll get the kit. You need to walk behind me and keep a lookout." Hermione told him.

Ron nodded. "Be careful." He said.

Hermione took a tentative step forward, out into the open and away from safety. "Do you see anything?"

"No, everything's fine." Ron said quietly. "Keep going."

"Should I just run and grab it, make it quick?" she asked. "It would be much faster and we'd be out of danger sooner."

"Yeah, good idea."she heard Ron say from behind her. "I'll be right behind you."

"Okay," Hermione said. His words soothed her and the knowledge that he was there to help if she needed him to was very reassuring.

Hermione ran forward and picked up the kit. It had a handle which Hermione held onto tightly. She straightened back up and turned around, bumping into Ron in the process.

"Oh, goodness, sorry." She said, trying not to blush at their close proximity.

It seemed Ron was trying unsuccessfully to do the same thing, for his ears were quite red. "I said I'd be right behind you," he told her, sounding almost defensive.

"I know," Hermione said softly. "Thank you."

Ron gave her a sheepish grin. "Well, I guess we better—"

He was interrupted by a groan. Ron and Hermione turned to find Lavender Brown surrounded by a large amount of blood. Her face was a pale ghost-white, a stark contrast to the deep scarlet around her. Hermione gasped in horror. The sight would stay with her for the rest of her life, she knew.

"Oh, my..." she finally managed to stutter, tears welling in her eyes. She was suddenly extremely grateful for Ron's closeness to her. She needed him to help her stay upright. As it was she found herself leaning against him. His left arm had wrapped around her waist and she knew that he needed her too.

"Help," Lavender breathed out, her whisper so quiet it nearly blew away with the wind. Hermione, though, could hear it loud and clear. The plea rang in her ears. "I can't..."Lavender continued.

Hermione seemed to shake out of the stupor and took a tentative step forward, away from Ron's hold. She suddenly felt a lot colder without him.

"What do you need?"she asked.

"Nothing," Lavender said, her voice no longer sounding anything like the high-pitched giggle Hermione had to put up with during the interviews.

"No, we have a first aid kit, I can try to..." her voice trailed off as Lavender tried to shake her head. It moved perhaps a millimetre, but it was enough for Hermione.

"It won't work," she whispered. "Just, please... end this for me..."

Hermione gasped, leaning back slightly. "What?"

"It hurts..."

"I... I can't... how can I?"

"I... will die anyway," Lavender reasoned. "At least... whatever you do... it won't be as painful... as awful... as just lying here... waiting..."

"Ron," Hermione found herself saying, and Ron's hand immediately fell onto her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"We can't do anything," Ron said, his voice shaking. "Anything we do will be painful..."

"It'll speed things up..." Lavender said. "Just... please... do something..."

"Ron, I can't..."Hermione whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Ron stayed quiet for awhile. "There's... I dunno... Hermione, what can we do?"

Hermione shook her head, resting her head against his chest. "I don't know..." her voice breaking."The only spell I can think of is _Diffindo_, but even that may not work and just cause more pain and I can't bear the thought of actually performing it..."

"Then stay, please."Lavender asked them. "Just stay with me. I... I don't want to be alone."

Hermione nodded and she felt Ron do the same. It was a sign of how frightened Lavender was feeling that she asked two people that she'd never spoken to in her entire life to stay with her for her final moments. Hermione privately wondered whether she'd be able to handle the moment when Lavender died, but she promised to herself, and to Lavender, that she would stay.

"Is there..." Ron stopped to clear his throat. "Is there anything you want to say?"

Lavender breathed out a soft, "no."

"Your mum and dad would be watching..." he said, sounding a little uncertain. Hermione felt it was a little insensitive, but Lavender didn't seem to mind. Hermione was quite proud of the way she'd accepted death and hoped that if she ever had to do the same, she would.

Would her parents be watching their daughter's extreme bravery? Hermione wondered. Or would they be sitting in their living room, the television switched off, unable to look? What would Hermione want her parents to do if she were in such a situation?

"I hope Daisy isn't seeing this..." Lavender murmured.

Ron and Hermione patiently waited for Lavender to continue.

"My little sister..." Lavender said, a hint of a smile on her face. Her eyes were shining. "So pretty... so precious... love you..." Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Mummy... Daddy... Jasmine... Daisy... love you all..."

Hermione swallowed and glanced up at Ron, who also had tears in his eyes and looked almost unable to watch.

"Move," someone male suddenly said, and Hermione nearly had a heart attack. Immediately her eyes darted to her right, into the bushes leading to the forest. In front of them was Cormac McLaggen. Hermione gasped and unconsciously stepped back into Ron.

"Get out of my way," Cormac said, his voice shaking. It was then that Hermione noticed how red and wet his eyes were and how not a single part of him told her he was going to attack them.

"Cormac..." Lavender said softly from below them.

His name seemed to direct his attention back to Lavender. "Lav," he said urgently, bending down and crouching over her, looking almost afraid to touch her. "How... you..."

"It hurts..." Lavender cried quietly.

"We're going to take care of that," Cormac said. "Don't worry."

"You can't..." Hermione said. "The only way to do that is—"

"I know the only way to do that!" Cormac interrupted, glaring at her and Ron. "Shut up!"

"Cormac," Lavender said quietly. "They're okay..."

Cormac pressed his lips together tightly and Hermione realised it was so he wouldn't burst into tears in front of them. "I'm going to stop it from hurting, all right?" he said to her.

"Okay..." Lavender replied softly.

Hermione realised what was going to happen just as Cormac began to shakily lift up his wand. She gasped once more, knowing what Cormac was about to do but thinking that he wouldn't... not someone like him, who knew how important the game was, who had killed so many to make sure he would be a victor...

"Thank you, Cormac..." Lavender whispered, blinking and pushing a lone tear away off her eyes and letting it trickle down her face. Her eyes did not open again.

Cormac let the wand hover over Lavender as he tried to compose himself. "Love you..." he finally said, then closed his eyes for a moment. "_Avada Kedavra_."

A canon fired, and she was gone.

Hermione shut her eyes tightly and wrapped both her arms around Ron's waist, burying her face into his shoulder. Ron immediately did the same and they stayed that way, holding onto each other.

"Get out of here." She heard Cormac say, his voice shaking. "They'll be here soon to collect me and her."

"You..." Ron began, but did not continue.

"Just go!" Cormac yelled at them.

Ron wasn't moving and Hermione didn't either.

"It's too late for you to do anything!" Cormac said. "I know what I did. I know why I did it. I'm not regretting it. Just leave me the hell alone!"

Hermione let out a shuddering breath against Ron's chest. Ron gripped her tighter.

"Thanks for looking after her..." Cormac whispered. "Now go."

Finally, Hermione pulled back slightly and glanced up at Ron. His face was red and tears were still in his eyes.

Ron stood up, pulling her with him by the hand.

He didn't let go after she stood up and Hermione was so grateful for that. They walked back up to where Harry was hiding, Hermione holding onto both Ron and the first aid kit for dear life. It didn't matter, though, because Ron was holding onto her just as tightly.

Harry seemed to understand why it took them so long. Perhaps he'd watched Lavender die too. Judging from his pale, almost horror-struck face, he had.

"You got the kit then..." he said quietly.

Hermione nodded and sat down next to him silently, opening the kit without a word. It had some dittany in it, which had been mentioned in _Herbs and Plants: A Guide_. Hermione knew it was only meant for wounds, probably not burns, but she decided to try a drop anyway.

"How does that feel?" Hermione asked Harry, and suddenly, a layer of skin had regrown on Harry's burn.

"Better..." Harry said. "It's still sensitive, but like it's a few days old."

"Well, that's good."Hermione said. She looked at the kit, examining the other contents. "Bandages, little tubes – most likely for water – cream..." her voice trailed off. "Maybe this will help, Harry."

She poured a small amount of cream onto her hand and rubbed it on his burn. Harry sighed with obvious relief. "I love magic." He said simply.

"Better?"

"Loads."

"D'you two want to go?" Ron asked, looking as if he'd like nothing more than to lie down in the tent and sleep, forgetting everything that he had just seen. "I don't fancy staying here any longer."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, we'd better head back to the tent and get some sleep."

They stood up, Harry wincing, and began to walk onto the trail, making their way back.

Harry managed to walk by himself, though Ron had offered to support him if he needed help. They walked slowly, each weighed down by something. Harry's burn had slowed him significantly, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Lavender's awful death and judging from the downcast expression on Ron's face, he was facing the same dilemma too. They walked side by side and every time her hand brushed Ron's she felt a little better.

Once they arrived back at the tent, Hermione sighed with a mixture of relief and happiness at the proof that it was still there, unharmed, untouched, still standing.

"I'll take the first watch," Hermione offered. She didn't particularly fancy standing guard and she rather preferred to get some rest but Ron and Harry needed it much more than she did.

"No, that's all right," Ron said, placing his hand on her shoulder to get her to look at him. "I'll do it. Go get some rest."

_Yes, I think I will,_ Hermione thought, but shook her head and said aloud, "No, you and Harry need to..."

"Don't worry about me." Ron said, a small smile on his face.

"I'm not going to let you stand guard when you look like you'll fall asleep standing at any moment."

"But I—"

"Ron," Hermione began sternly. "For once in your life," she let her voice soften and her cheeks grew a little warmer. "For once in your life don't think about others and let someone look after _you_."

Ron let go of Hermione but remained in the same position for a moment, simply looking at her. Finally, he sighed. "Thanks, Hermione." He said. For a second he paused and then tentatively lifted up his arms to give her a hug. Hermione sighed and smiled into his chest, briefly wrapping her arms around his waist to return the hug before he pulled away and crept into the tent, joining Harry.

Hermione sat down gracefully onto the grass and assessed the damage that the fire had done to her. It didn't seem to be too bad. She only had a few small burns that weren't too painful. The ends of her hair were a little singed, but it wasn't too bad. She sighed, thinking about how much worse off they could have all been.

"You've got to be barking!" she heard Ron exclaim and she turned her back and opened the flap to the tent, peering in.

"Is everything all right?" Hermione inquired.

"No!" Ron said, sounding positively aghast. "This one," he gestured to Harry, "thinks it's his fault the fire started!"

"What?!" Hermione cried.

"See?" Ron said to Harry. "She thinks it's ridiculous, too!"

"Of course that's ridiculous!" Hermione said. "Why on earth would you think that?"

"I don't!" Harry said. "I... I just... I should have realised that something was going to happen." He looked down at the ground sadly. "It's my fault we nearly died."

"If you think that then it's just as much my fault as it is yours!" Hermione said. "Why didn't I realise it?"

"It wasn't your fault—" Harry began.

"Of course it wasn't!" Hermione said, but whether she truly believed it was another story. "So then it wasn't your fault either!"

Harry stayed silent.

"Harry, it wasn't." Ron said, though in a placating manner.

"I suppose." Harry finally said.

"There." Hermione said primly. "Now that we've got that sorted, you two should go to sleep. I'll be outside."

Harry didn't look completely convinced with what Ron and Hermione were insisting, but he nodded and lay back down, facing the canvas wall.

Ron eyed Hermione for a moment, then finally smiled and lay down too.

Hermione closed the tent flap and tried to relax and forget about what she'd seen and experienced and how she'd managed to live through that day. It did not work. Her mind continued to go back to the moment when Lavender pleaded for them to kill her. A part of her was extremely curious as to whom else they had lost that day, the other person that perished in the fire. Was it another career?

Tears began to form in her eyes and stream down her face. They were cool and a pleasant contrast against her warm skin. However she found herself wanting to go into the tent and lie down next to Ron and just be with him. She needed Ron. He was there with her when Lavender died. He would understand what she was going through. Perhaps he was going through it himself. Hermione turned her head around to glance back at the tent. There was no sign that either of them was restless.

_Go wake him._

_No, he needs to rest._

_He may need you more._

_It doesn't matter. He's asleep and waking him up would be selfish._

_Be selfish! You need him!_

_I will not!_

"Hermione?"

Hermione gasped and turned around. Ron was standing behind her.

"Ron!" she exclaimed. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm fine." He said. "I just... bad dream, you know?"

"Oh," Hermione said sympathetically. "That's understandable... considering..."

"Yeah," Ron said, nodding his head but not looking eager to talk about it. "Can I just sit with you? Or I can take your watch?"

Hermione tried not to smile happily at the coincidence. There she was wishing for Ron to be there with her when all of a sudden he came.

"Of course you can sit with me," Hermione said.

Ron gave her a one-sided grin and sat down next to her. Immediately, it felt like all of her troubles and the horrible thoughts plaguing her mind had disappeared.

They didn't talk. They didn't look at each other. They simply sat side by side and watched the day go by.

Hermione felt much better.

_A/N Sorry for the wait. Unfortunately, I've been quite busy, as I mentioned in the previous chapter, and to top it all off, I caught a cold and had to go to several doctors' appointements, which didn't help with my busy schedule. I'm feeling better now, and my schedule isn't as swamped, but I need to catch up in my writing, which means that the intervals between chapters may end up being about 7-10 days for a little longer. Thank you for sticking with me!_

_Also, thank you for all your reviews! We reached the 100 mark - congratulations AlwaysKatie7 for being the 100th reviewer, and thank you everyone else for providing her the opportunity to deliver a 100th review! They truly all mean the world to me, and encourage me to write faster and as well I possibly can. _

_I'll see you all for chapter 14 (I hope!)._


	14. Revelations

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 14: Revelations_

Harry and Ron were sitting at the front of the tent passing the time by playing a game of chess when Hermione returned from collecting berries.

"I've had a brilliant idea!" she exclaimed as her head poked through the bushes, interrupting the peace.

"As usual," Ron said, looking away from the board and giving her a smile.

"What's the idea?"Harry asked.

"I can't believe I hadn't thought of it earlier," Hermione said quickly, "I mean, it was so obvious! I'd read about the spells in _Charms: Expanded _and only a few minutes earlier, I finally remembered them and their pronunciation!"

"Would you just tell us the idea?" Ron asked, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"We should extend the tent!" Hermione exclaimed.

Her announcement was met with a shocked silence.

Finally, Harry spoke up. "How are we meant to do that without drawing attention to ourselves?"

"We use an Undetectable Extension Charm." Hermione explained. "It won't be easy, but I think I can do it. It will give us much more space and shelter, and with a bit of transfiguration we could have beds and tables and chairs!"

"Bloody hell, really?" Ron asked, getting up from the ground. "That's incredible!"

"I can give it a go." Hermione said, a little hesitantly. What if it didn't work and she'd gotten their hopes up for no reason?

"We've got time."Harry said, beginning to lift the chess board off the ground and stand up.

"No, Harry, stay there." She told him. "If this works out correctly, the tent shouldn't change at all on the exterior, so you don't need to move. It will be much more spacious inside, though."

"Blimey, this will be interesting." Ron said from beside Hermione. "Go on, Hermione. Try."

Hermione looked at the tent in front of her warily. She then realised she was still holding the basket of berries in her hand and set it on the grass. Then she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the small canvas tent.

"_Clam Extendere_," she spoke clearly.

Nothing happened.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. Not needing another word, Harry leaned over towards the tent and opened it, peering in.

"It's still the same." He said, shaking his head.

"Oh," Hermione said, a little dejectedly.

"Give it another go," Ron said encouragingly. "Like Harry said, we've got time. Maybe the wand movement wasn't right? Try swishing and flicking, perhaps. It worked for the levitating charm." He grinned at the memory the levitating charm brought back, a smile which Hermione's lips mirrored.

"All right then," Hermione said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She pointed her wand towards the tent and swung it to the right. "_Clam Extendere_," Hermione declared and flicked her wand down.

Harry immediately went forward to check if the charm had worked. He poked his head in, then suddenly stood up, his head still in the tent. That should not have been possible if the spell hadn't worked...

"It worked." Harry said, sounding amazed.

Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise and she heard Ron let out a colourful, "Bloody hell!" from beside her. Suddenly he was ahead of her, racing towards the tent entrance and exclaiming, "Bloody hell, it really worked!"

By the time Ron reached the tent, Harry had already gone inside. Hermione beamed. It worked! _Charms: Extended_ had said the spell was very difficult and many wizards had to try several times for it to work. She had managed to make it work in just two!

"Hermione, you bloody _genius_!" Ron shouted from inside.

Hermione laughed and walked over to the tent. She opened the flap and peered in. The roof was much higher, a head taller than Ron. The tent was now wide and Hermione felt that her vision for it could really, really work. The beds, the chairs, the tables... it could all fit and there would be plenty of space left over.

Harry and Ron were looking around in shock, circling around the room. "It's so... big..." Harry said simply. "There's just so much space..."

Ron let out a chuckle. "Yeah, can you believe it?"

Hermione smiled.

"And we won't be so squished together when we sleep!" Harry said.

"What?" Hermione and Ron both said, whirling around to face him.

Harry looked back at them. He appeared surprised. "What do you mean 'what?'" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "There's going to be heaps of space, so we're not going to be crammed together when we sleep."

And then Hermione's excitement vanished so quickly it was as if a balloon had been popped inside her and she was now deflated. _Right._

How could she have been so stupid to suggest the idea that they expand the tent?

Now she had no excuse to curl up next to Ron in the middle of the night.

He had been such a comfort in the past few days. It'd been so difficult to stop thinking about Cormac's sacrifice for Lavender and nightmares plagued Hermione's sleeping hours the first night. They were so severe that she felt terrified about sleeping the night after. Ron, however, had noticed that Hermione felt uneasy and simply held her hand until she fell asleep. They did it the night after. And the night after that. Even when Ron had to take the first watch, Hermione waited up for him, pretending to sleep so as not to alarm Harry. Then Ron would return and wake Harry for his watch and Hermione would sleep peacefully with Ron right next to her, holding her hand in his large, calloused one. Hermione didn't know if she'd be able to sleep without him now.

_How could I not have realised it?_ She felt rather stupid now.

Finally Ron broke the uncomfortable silence in the air. "Ha, right. Of course. Didn't realise it." He cleared his throat. "It'll be good. All the... space."

"Yes," Hermione said. "It's... it's great."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows confusedly but didn't press the matter. "What can we transfigure into a bed? Any ideas?"

"I don't think the object really matters," Hermione explained. "The spell I know should be able to transfigure anything into a bed."

"How do you know all these spells?" Ron asked her sharply.

Hermione shrugged."I have a good memory."

Ron shook his head in wonder and she could hear him murmur,"_Good memory_... bloody hell," under his breath.

"Anyway," Hermione continued. "The spell I know is really good, because a lot of transfiguration spells can only change one specific object into one _other_ specific object. _Lectulus Verto_ should be able to change _anything _into a bed, but I think it would be easier to transfigure something that is a rectangle or slightly resembles a bed."

Harry paused to think about it. "Would a piece of bark work?" he finally asked.

Hermione nodded. "I think it'd work just as well as anything else we'd be able to think of." She said.

"I can carve the pieces of bark so that they look more like a bed, if that makes it any easier?"

"It would, definitely." Hermione said. "That'd be wonderful."

"All right, I'll go find some good ones." Harry declared and walked out of the tent. Hermione was still stunned at the fact that the roof tent was higher than them. She spun around on the spot, eyeing the larger, much more spacious tent.

"Seriously, how do you do it?" Ron asked her from the other side of the room.

Hermione turned around to face him. "Do what?"

"The spells." Ron said, looking very annoyed that he didn't have an explanation. "You can't have learned all these in one week."

Hermione straightened her back, something she always did when she got defensive. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, Ron," Hermione said, "because I did."Technically, she wasn't lying. She did learn these spells in one week. However, she didn't mention that this was because she'd covered all the basic spells months ago, giving her ample time to learn other, more complex spells.

"Yeah, but how could you remember all of them?" Ron asked. "Especially something that transfigures something into a bed, or something that enlarges a tent? How could you remember something like that?"

Hermione shrugged and tried to look innocent. "I don't know... I just did. I told you, I've got a good memory. I read them, I remembered them."

"I found some bark!"Harry exclaimed and walked back into the tent.

Ron looked away from her, but his eyebrows were still furrowed and Hermione knew he had not let the issue go.

"Well done, Harry."Hermione said, trying to ease the tension before Harry noticed it was there."Just hand the pieces over and I'll try and get a mattress out of them." Harry handed the pieces of bark to her and she closed her hand over them. "Where do you want the beds?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't mind."

Hermione simply placed them onto the ground a few metres away from each other. "I hope this works," Hermione murmured nervously.

"It's okay if it doesn't." Ron said to her reassuringly. "It's all right."

Hermione swallowed anxiously. "Thank you, Ron."

He and Harry took a few steps back, joining her.

Hermione raised her wand up into the air and pointed it at the bark on the right. "_Lectulus Verto_." She said clearly.

The bark immediately grew larger until it was large enough for someone of Ron's size to fit onto. Then the bark began to get paler and paler until it was completely white. As it changed colour it also changed into a comfortable squishy mattress.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed and Hermione beamed with excitement. "It worked!"

"I can't believe it..." Hermione said, stunned.

"Well done, Hermione." Harry said and grinned at her.

"Thanks," Hermione said, a huge smile still on her face.

"Make another one!" Ron said, jumping onto the bed and looking down at the other pieces of bark. He resembled a young child on Christmas morning.

"Calm down, Ron, you've done magic before." Hermione reminded him.

"Not transfiguration." Ron said, shaking his head.

Hermione pointed her wand at the piece of bark in the middle and said "_Lectulus Verto_." The piece of bark changed into a bed just as swiftly as the first one. Ignoring Harry's and Ron's exclaims, she pointed her wand at the only piece of bark left and repeated the incantation. Three beds had taken the place of the three pieces of bark.

"Which one do you boys want?" Hermione asked them.

Ron and Harry gaped at her for a moment before claiming their beds, leaving Hermione with the bed in the middle.

"We can move them around if you guys want to," Hermione said. "We could make some room for a table to play chess on..."

"Oh, wicked!" Ron exclaimed.

"We can use a log for that," Harry suggested. "I can carve a table out of it."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Hermione cried, clapping her hands together and nearly dropping her wand as Harry raced out of the tent. "This is great!" she said softly.

Ron was checking the pack he and Harry had won in the Cornucopia battle.

"What are you looking for?" Hermione asked him.

"Blanket," Ron said, his voice muffled. "I'm going to put my new bed to good use."

Hermione giggled. "Is it comfortable?" she asked.

"Bloody hell, yes," Ron said, wriggling on the mattress. "It's brilliant."

Hermione smiled, sitting down on the bed herself. "I'm glad."

Ron pulled out a thick blanket and spread it over his legs. He then lay down completely on the bed and sighed contentedly. "I love you, Hermione."

She froze, her back turned to him. Pleasant shivers ran up and down her spine and tingling goosebumps popped up on her skin. Her cheeks reddened while her heart began to race.

_It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean anything._

Hermione was finally able to move again and she turned to find Ron's eyes closed, a small smile on his face as he lay in his new bed, snuggled up underneath the blanket, unaware of the battle raging inside Hermione.

_He meant it as a friend. He meant it as a friend. He said it because you made a bed for him._

Hermione sighed and lay back on her bed, putting her hands against her stomach as she gazed at the ceiling above her. Why had it felt so _good_to hear him say that?

Hermione closed her eyes. She fancied Ron, she knew that now. She had known it for a while. But she couldn't love him. She couldn't. That was impossible. She had only known him for two weeks.

So why then, when he let the words spill out of his mouth moments earlier, did she immediately imagine their faces so close they breathed the same air and every individual freckle being visible on his face and him whispering the words to her as they pulled away from a breathless kiss and her whispering the words back?

_That doesn't mean anything, though,_ Hermione's mind reasoned. _Everybody wants to be loved. Obviously you'd feel happy if someone told you they loved you._

_Not necessarily. If I only fancied him and he told me he loved me, I'd probably feel horrible that my feelings weren't as strong as his. He just told me he loved me—_

_As a friend!_

_And the first thing I wanted to do was say those words back!_

Hermione gasped aloud and sat up on the bed.

"What?" Ron asked, his lightning quick reflexes causing him to sit up almost as quickly as she had.

"You were awake?" Hermione asked, part of her still thinking about the revelation she'd made only moments ago.

"I hadn't fallen asleep yet." Ron said. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You just gasped and shot up so quickly you looked like a Bludger that'd just been hit." Ron said. Hermione had been around him long enough to know that a Bludger was a ball in Quidditch. "Are you all right?"

Hermione racked her brain, trying to come up with some sort of excuse. "The berries!" Hermione exclaimed. "I left the berries outside!"

"Oh," Ron said simply, calming significantly at the realisation that it was only berries troubling Hermione. "Well... go get them, then."

"Right, yes."Hermione said, turning away from him and blushing. She walked across the tent to the entrance flap and went outside.

She picked up the basket of berries and slumped back against a nearby tree, contemplating what she had just realised.

_It's not true. I can't. I can't possibly. I can't love Ron. It's just a passing fancy. It's not love._

Is it?

_No! Of course not,_ Hermione reasoned_. I'm not in love with him. I can't be. I've only loved him—_known_ him for two weeks. How can I possibly—no normal person could be in love in—_

_Why not?_ Her heart asked. _And who said this was normal? Is anything about this situation normal? You're fighting for your life in this __sick,__ twisted excuse of a game. Yes, maybe in normal circumstances you wouldn't have fallen so quickly, but there's nothing normal about this. It's possible._

_But..._ Hermione's mind struggled to come up with a counter-argument.

_You've been avoiding it since the fire. You've been avoiding your feelings for him, haven't you? _Her heart accused.

It was true, Hermione had to admit. Since the fire, Hermione had realised how deep her feelings for Ron really were, how scared she'd been when she thought the fire could reach him and how terrified she'd become when Ron had raced into it. After Cormac had sacrificed himself to rid Lavender of pain, Hermione had spent a lot of the time wondering if she'd be able to do that for someone. Her mind had instantly thought of Ron. The fire also made her realise how important Harry was to her too. The thought of him gone simply chilled her to the very core of her being. She was getting much too close to those two.

_It's too late_, her mind declared. _You_ have _gotten too close to those two_.

_Especially Ron_, her heart added.

_No_. Hermione thought firmly. _I_ _am not in love with Ron. I will get over this simple crush. It's not love._

With renewed enthusiasm Hermione straightened up and marched into the tent, a part of her still in doubt.

She heard him come into the tent when he finished his watch. Her back was turned to the entrance flap, but when she opened her eyes she could see his silhouette bent over Harry's bed, shaking him awake.

"Hey, mate." He murmured. Hermione heard Harry yawn and then saw him sit up.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a moment." Harry said tiredly.

Hermione was just as tired as he was. Unfortunately, unlike him, she hadn't managed to get some sleep. She'd spent close to an hour restlessly twisting and turning her limbs, trying to get herself to sleep without Ron's close proximity. When she'd finally succeeded, it had only taken a few minutes for the nightmares to begin and Hermione had been awake since.

Harry slipped out of bed, grabbed his thick sleeping bag and walked out of the tent. Between Hermione's and the boys' packs, there were two sleeping bags and two blankets. Ron and Hermione had taken the blankets whilst Harry had a sleeping bag. He used it for warmth when he stood guard outside much like Ron and Hermione did with their blankets.

Hermione watched as Ron's shadow crept into his bed. She saw him pause slightly, then finally lie down on his back.

She sighed quietly to herself. _All right, he's here. I'll get some sleep now. Sleep, Hermione. Sleep. You'll be of no use to anyone tomorrow if you're exhausted and __half-asleep__._

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and tried to sleep but once again to no avail. She shifted in bed. She twisted. She rolled over. No position helped her.

_Oh, that's it, _Hermione thought to herself. _I'll just have to grit my teeth and do it. I need my sleep._

With that, she turned over and rolled out of bed and purposefully walked over to Ron's bed. His back was to her and she wasn't sure whether he was asleep yet or not.

It doesn't matter. I need him.

Hermione tentatively reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. Immediately goose bumps sprang up on her skin and she suddenly had a wonderful idea.

Ron immediately turned around to face her and Hermione knew he hadn't been asleep.

"Hermione, wha—" he tried to yawn, but Hermione knew it was simply Ron's horrible acting. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm cold." She said simply.

"... and?" Ron asked after a pause.

"I was wondering if I'd be able to sleep with you." Hermione said, her face burning up. She was infinitely grateful that it was dark.

"You... you what?"

"Could I stay in your bed tonight?" Hermione asked. "With you. Body heat, you see?"

"Oh, uh," Ron stammered. "Yeah, that... that's fine."

She heard him shuffling over to give her more room and she gratefully slipped in. Their shoulders brushed and they immediately moved them away from each other, lying as far away from each other as possible, to Hermione's annoyance.

After a few minutes, she heard Ron call her name in the dark.

"Yeah?" she whispered back to him.

"You awake?" he asked.

"Obviously."Hermione said, a grin on her face.

"No, I mean—anyway..." Ron began, "I'm cold, too."

Hermione wasn't sure what she should say. "... and?" Hermione finally asked.

"I just thought... if we were a bit closer..." his voice trailed off and Hermione knew his ears were red.

Hermione bit her lip to hide a smile. "That'd make sense, wouldn't it?" she said.

"Yeah," Ron said, sounding more confident. "Yeah, it makes sense. And... you like it when things make sense..."

Hermione turned around to face Ron. He heard her shuffling and turned too.

She hadn't realised how close their faces would be. She could make out the features on his face –his long nose, his strong jaw.

Yet it still wasn't close enough.

"If we really want to warm up," Hermione started, "We need to get even closer."

"Oh." Ron simply said. "Well, I'm pretty cold..."

Hermione tried to not smile. She didn't think she was successful and she hoped that it was dark enough that Ron wouldn't see. "Yes, it is quite chilly," she said.

"Yeah..." Ron said, and she heard him swallow nervously in the darkness. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her hip, pulling her closer towards Ron. The hand was indeed cold, and shaking, too.

"This okay?" Ron asked, his voice shaking as much as his hand.

Hermione turned her head away from his hand and looked up into his face. "It's more than okay."

She heard him let out a small sigh of relief and pull her a little closer. It seemed that the first night they'd slept in each other's arms, he'd held her simply because she needed to be held. Now, it wasn't a case of need, and all the confidence Ron had had that first night was gone. Now, it was about what they both _wanted_. Truth be told, Hermione was a little insecure, too. Matters of the heart simply made one that way.

She knew she needed to reassure him with actions as well as words that this was all right. She'd begun this dance by approaching Ron in the darkness. He'd taken the next step by pulling her closer. Now, she needed to do something.

Hermione decided to do what her heart told her. She rested her head against his chest and sighed, caving into the feeling of having Ron's protective arms around her. _This is perfect,_ she decided. _This is home. This is—_

_Love._

Hermione shut her eyes tightly, as if that would block out the thought. It didn't matter, though. She couldn't deny it any longer.

Hermione Granger was in love with Ron Weasley.

_A/N Thank you for reading!_


	15. The Strike of Reality

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 15: The Strike of Reality_

Hermione sighed wearily and refused to open her eyes, though she knew it was time to wake up. She simply did not want to move. She was far too comfortable. The previous night, they'd fallen asleep on their sides, facing each other, but throughout the night Ron had ended up on his back and pulled her down with him. Hermione hadn't felt so comfortable and secure in a long time.

_Come on, Hermione,_ her mind scolded her. _It's time to get up_.

Drowsily, Hermione opened her eyes and was greeted with bright sunlight. She squinted and lifted her right arm off of Ron's chest to block it out. Harry had been standing in the entrance, the flap opened. Hermione's eyes widened slightly as she caught his eye. He was frowning at the scene, though he did not seem unhappy. He had a smile on his face, but his eye brows were furrowed as if he were trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Their eyes met and Hermione gave him a small shrug of the shoulder. Harry grinned back at her, causing her smile to grow. He looked away and closed the entrance flap. Hermione decided she ought to join him.

Ron seemed to disagree. As soon as Hermione had moved but a few centimetres away from him, a sleeping Ron tightened his hold on her. Hermione let out a soft laugh and Ron smiled in his sleep, looking more content than she'd ever seen him, even more so than when he was talking about Quidditch or when he won a game of chess.

Then suddenly Ron let out a snore and the magic was broken. Hermione laughed again and lifted his arm off of her. Ron sighed and rolled his head to the side closer to Hermione. Hermione looked at him for but one more moment before getting out of bed, away from Ron's warm embrace. She immediately felt a lot colder.

Hermione quietly crept over to her bed took her blanket off of it. Wrapping it around her shoulders she glanced up at the entrance flap. After a second of standing still, Hermione walked out of the tent.

Harry was sitting in front of a stump a few metres away from the tent. His knees were raised up and his thin arms were slung over them like branches on a tree. Though Hermione had thought she opened the tent flap very quietly, Harry's head reflexively turned to face her the second she came out of the tent. Hermione knew it was from weeks of practise in case someone did decide to sneak up on them.

"Good morning, Harry." Hermione greeted him.

"It certainly is, isn't it, Hermione?" Harry said, grinning at her.

Hermione blushed and ducked her head in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. "Harry..." she began, though not entirely sure what she'd say. Perhaps she would scold him for teasing her, perhaps she would ask him to not say anything at all.

It was unnecessary, however, for Harry continued on with his teasing. "I suppose he's a lovely pillow, hm?" he asked. "Better than the canvas covered ground, isn't he?"

"Harry," Hermione said, certain her face was redder than Ron's hair by now.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, with sincerity.

"Last night was the first night I slept with hi—we slept in the same bed." Hermione said honestly, wondering if it was possible to die from embarrassment. _That would certainly make for some interesting entertainment for The Capitol_, Hermione thought.

"Really?" Harry said, sounding surprised. "It didn't really look like you were uncomfortable or..."

"I wasn't." Hermione said quickly without thinking. Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "I mean... well, he _is_ comfortable and it wasn't that much different to sleeping squished together in the small tent."

"I guess it isn't." Harry replied thoughtfully. "Although, when sleeping squished together in a tent, you don't have much choice. When there are three beds in a spacious tent... the difference is that you do have a choice, and sleeping all squished together in the same bed when you've got another option sort of implies that you _want_ to sleep together."

"I was cold," Hermione said quietly, her blush – which had been receding slightly - returning full force.

"Hermione, Ron's hair isn't _actually_ on fire, despite what it looks like." Harry said, struggling not to laugh.

"Oh, Harry, please stop this." Hermione said, burrowing her face in her hands and wondering why on earth she'd walked out of the tent to talk to him.

"Stop what?" Harry asked innocently, though it was obvious he knew perfectly well what Hermione was talking about. "I was simply curious as to why this morning I found my two best friends sleeping with their arms wrapped around each other and—"

"We're not a couple!" Hermione interrupted him. Harry stopped talking abruptly. "We're not." Hermione said truthfully. "We... we're just friends, don't worry, Harry."

"Worry?" Harry repeated. "Why would I worry?"

"Be-because..." Hermione began, not entirely sure how to explain it. "I just thought... you might not want to feel like the third wheel... that things might be awkward and you wouldn't want to feel like you were left out or..."

"Hermione, if you two are happy, then that's all that matters to me." Harry said, so simply Hermione was awed that he didn't realise how much that statement affected her. Before she could voice her feelings, however, Harry continued. "However," he began, "that being said, if you do become a couple, at any point—"

"We're not—" Hermione interrupted, because there was no chance she was going to get into a relationship. It was simply impossible. One of them was going to die, for goodness sake!

"Please," Harry carried on, as if she hadn't said anything, "don't act all lovey-dovey around each other... at least not around me. Although neither of you seem like the kind that would... just in case."

"We won't." Hermione promised, then hastily added, "I mean, wouldn't, if we were together, which we're not... and won't be."

"Okay," Harry said, not sounding as though he believed her at all.

"Harry," Hermione said seriously. "We're not going to get together. It's... that's ridiculous."

"Why's that?" Harry asked.

"Because... it just... it wouldn't work!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Because of the games?" Harry said.

"Well, yes." Hermione said, then realised that she was making it perfectly clear that her feelings for Ron Weasley weren't entirely platonic. "And also because... because I don't fancy him. We don't fancy each other... that's... that's just crazy."

"It doesn't seem that crazy to me," Harry said truthfully, and Hermione wondered whether he'd indeed spotted her feelings for Ron. Could she really have been that obvious? Harry normally was quite oblivious to things that didn't concern him. If he'd actually _spotted_ that Hermione fancied Ron, perhaps that meant that her feelings weren't concealed all that well. And if Harry could tell, _Harry_, who could be so oblivious about girls it wasn't funny, then that meant that _Ron_, who always looked after her, watched out for her and paid _attention_ to her, could very well know about her crush too!

"Well, I..." Hermione blushed. "I don't have feelings for him."

"Really?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed. "I... it... he... he's stubborn, he's a pig, he always has to be right, he snaps, he's moody, he's defensive, he's nosy, he... it simply wouldn't work, him and I." Although, as Hermione said that, she couldn't help but think about how well they'd work.

She allowed herself to linger on that thought and wonder what it might be like if he indeed did have feelings for her too, and if they could become a couple. They'd bicker occasionally, but it'd be playful and contain the promise of kiss after kiss once they made up. They'd play chess and she'd huff when she loses and Ron would laugh at her and tell her she'll never win, which would only ignite the determination inside her that causes her to challenge him again. Images of lazy afternoons lounging outside in the sun, her head resting on his chest and a book in her lap came into mind. He would get bored, obviously, and convince her to do something silly and reckless, and she'd love it. He could take her flying, once he got a broom, and she'd wrap her arms around him and feel safe as always...

"If you say so." Harry said conversationally, and Hermione did not answer for a moment as her mind tried to remember what that was in response to. "Really, I don't think it's too far-fetched."

Hermione let out a small sigh, so quiet she had a feeling Harry did not hear her. "It... we drive each other up the canvas wall half the time." She finally said.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, it shows how much you two care about each other. It's a little lonely, actually, watching you guys bicker. All your attention is focused on each other, and—"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione began earnestly, "I'm sorry." She had not realised how her and Ron's bickering might affect him. Harry was right – their attention was focused on each other. He really wasn't that oblivious after all.

"No, don't worry!" Harry said, smiling at her. "It's pretty funny, too. Very entertaining, and I could use a laugh, you know."

Hermione nodded slowly, eyes on the cool ground. "Yes, we could all use a laugh." She said quietly.

They sat in silence, listening to the scarce morning life. They were still and unmoving as the sun rose up higher and higher over the horizon and the birds began to chirp louder and louder.

He was her brother, Hermione decided. Harry was the brother she'd never had. He teased her and laughed with her but cared and looked after her when the time needed him to. She hadn't realised how much the boy with the scar would affect her, how much he would mean to her.

All her life, Hermione had read stories that would dazzle and enthral the mind – stories that would entertain and enchant her. All of them had one key theme: love. In every single one of the stories, love was the most powerful weapon. Love was the most beautiful thing imaginable.

In these games, it was one's downfall. Cormac had proved it, and Hermione knew that love could soon be her downfall too.

And she was simply letting it take over her.

Hermione enjoyed such days in the games when she could simply lay back and relax, not worry about anything. She could simply laze about, play chess and re-read Herbs and Plants. In days like those, she could almost forget that she was in a deadly competition, struggling to survive. She could simply pretend she was out camping with her friends, appreciating the world around her.

If only that were really true.

It was late in the afternoon and Harry and Hermione were using what little natural sunlight they had left to play a quick match of chess while Ron went out to get them all water. Hermione worried that he'd been out for a long time, and that a canon had fired a little after he'd left, but tried not to dwell on it or overreact, as she was prone to do, sometimes. It may not have been him.

Harry was enjoying the game, mainly because he was winning, but when Hermione noticed his smile faltering and his head turning to the bushes they'd enter from every few minutes, her fear only inceased.

The frequency of Harry's head turning increased too. Hermione began to turn with him. Move a piece, turn, glance, turn back to the game. Ponder over your next move for a few seconds, turn, glance, turn back to the game. They began doing it in sync.

Eventually, their eyes met, and Hermione could see the worry in Harry's mirrored her own.

"How long was it meant to take him?" Harry voiced.

Hermione stared at him for a long time. "An hour, I'd say. Fifteen to walk to the lake, and thirty minutes for the water to purify... maybe a little over an hour, but not this long."

"_Has_ it been an hour?" Harry asked. "Maybe we're just poor time-keepers."

Hermione swallowed nervously. Had they perhaps worried over nothing? "I don't think so," she finally answered. "We've both been turning our heads to the bushes over there for the past twenty minutes. He has been gone long enough to worry both of us..." Hermione took a deep breath in to steady herself. "Harry, I don't like this."

"Maybe he found some food?" Harry suggested.

"It wouldn't have taken him this long..." Hermione said, shaking her head. "Harry... what if... what if it was him?" She tried not to let her mind jump to the conclusion, but it did. "What if the cannon fired for him?"

"No," Harry said, though she saw a flash of terror appear in his eyes. He stood up, quite suddenly, and looked around. "No, he can't be."

"What if it is?" Hermione said, jumping up and joining him, the game of chess long forgotten. "Harry!"

"All right, we need to stay calm," Harry said, looking as though he wanted to do the complete opposite. "All right... maybe... maybe one of us should stay here, and the other go looking?"

"But then we could lose the person who went to look," Hermione said, though she knew that both of them wanted to go out there and search. She had to keep her head. "What if Ron suddenly returns and one of us is still out there looking for him?"

"What should we do, then?" Harry asked her.

Hermione paused and thought hard. "We could wait." Hermione finally answered. "Wait and see if... if he's the one who... who died."

"And if it isn't?" Harry asked, staring at her with a fierce look in his eyes, one that refused to believe his best friend was dead. "What do we do then? We'll just be wasting valuable time!"

"I don't know!" Hermione exclaimed. "I don't know." She repeated, quieter this time. "Harry... he isn't... is he?"

"I'm not." Someone said from behind them.

"RON!" Hermione shrieked and turned around, flinging her arms around him tightly and burrowing her face in his shoulder. She was a little surprised that he didn't respond, but didn't care. He was alive. He was safe.

"Ron, where the hell were you?" she heard Harry ask behind her.

Ron stiffened and she felt him tense up. His arms reached up to pull her off him. Hermione immediately stepped back, looking up at him worriedly.

He didn't meet her gaze, not Harry's. There was a dead look in his eyes and his face was downcast. "Just... just leave me alone for a bit." He said quietly and walked past them and into the tent.

Hermione turned her head to look at Harry to find that he was looking back at her with the same confused expression.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked her, furrowing his thick eyebrows.

Hermione shook her head confusedly. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "Something must have happened... something awful."

"But what?" Harry wondered.

"I'll go talk to him," Hermione began and took a step forward before Harry stopped her.

"No, Hermione. You heard him. Let him be."

"But _Harry_—"

"Don't." Harry said firmly. "Just let him have some time on his own."

"He needs to talk about whatever this is." Hermione insisted.

"Not yet. Just don't force him to talk when he isn't ready, Hermione."

Hermione crossed her arms and sighed. "I'll wait a little while." She decided.

Harry didn't look completely satisfied with that but seemed to decide that it will do for now. "Good."

There was a pause. "Am I allowed to go inside?" Hermione asked him.

"Probably not." Harry said, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Why did boys have to make things so difficult? Honestly, if Harry would just let her go in and talk to him, they wouldn't have to stand outside in the cooling air.

"What are we supposed to do then?" Hermione asked him. "We can't stay out here for however long you want to. It's getting cold and dark."

"Just wait out here for a little while, Hermione." Harry said, sighing. "We could finish the chess match?"

Hermione shook her head, not up for chess anymore.

"I'm not in the mood either but it'll give us something to do." Harry told her.

Hermione gave in and sat down on the cool grass. It was getting dark quite quickly. The tree branches surrounding them were looking gloomy and scary as they hung over the three tributes. Hermione shivered; from the cold and from the fear that was eerily creeping over her.

They continued their game until it was almost completely night. Hermione could now barely see the board, but then a bright beam of light appeared out of nowhere, casting everything in a magical glow.

Then the music began to play and Hermione looked up at the sky to see the seal of Panem. From the corner of her eye she saw Harry do the same and together they watched as the seal disappeared. In its place came up a headshot of Lizzie Markshen.

And Hermione quickly realised what was wrong with Ron.

"That's it, isn't it?" she murmured quietly.

Harry nodded slowly, looking rather sombre. "Yeah, it is." He answered. "Do you think he saw her death?"

"Yes. He wouldn't have known about it otherwise." Hermione replied, standing up. "Harry, I need to talk to him."

Harry sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Hermione, we shouldn'—"

"Harry, first of all, we can't both stay out here all night, and secondly, it's not fair to let Ron keep this all in. The sooner you let me go in, the sooner one of us can go to sleep in a nice, warm tent and the sooner Ron can start to heal."

Harry heaved another sigh, and she knew he was about to argue, but Hermione decided that it wasn't up to him to decide what she did. She could do whatever she wanted to and she wanted to help Ron.

She marched towards the entry flap and flipped it to the side, walking in. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.

Ron was sitting on his bed, his red, blotchy and tear-stained face scrunched up in an effort to get himself to stop crying. His hands were on his face, holding his head up, whilst his elbows rested on his knees. He looked broken.

"Ron?" Hermione asked nervously, now not sure whether Ron wanted her to be here.

Ron glanced up at her and Hermione caught sight of his striking blue eyes, shining with unshed tears. He knew perfectly well that she wouldn't believe him, but he pretended nothing was wrong. "Sorry I made you stay outside."

"You needed some time by yourself." Hermione said, walking over to him and sitting down on the bed. "But now, you need someone."

Ron sighed and buried his face in his hands once more, avoiding eye contact with her. "Hermione, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You need a rock, you need some support, and for all the times you've been one for me, I think it's time I returned the favour." Hermione said to him gently.

"You don't need to—"

"I want to."

Ron lifted his head up ever so slightly, giving her a sideways glance.

Hermione continued. "I want to help you, Ron."

Hermione could almost see in his eyes that he'd given in and as soon as he'd buried his head in her shoulder she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. She felt him breathing in, trying to control his emotions.

"You can let it out, you know." Hermione said. "Don't bottle it in. It's unhealthy."

Ron breathed out rather quickly and she felt her shoulder beginning to dampen.

"There you go," Hermione told him reassuringly. "Ron... it's okay. You... you lost a friend today. It's only natural to want to cry."

At that, Ron began sobbing, holding her tightly around the waist. Hermione rubbed his back in what she hoped was a soothing manner. Her heart ached as she thought of Lizzie Markshen. An innocent thirteen year old was dead, and poor Ron, who had not left her sight throughout training, most likely witnessed it.

Her salty tears soon joined Ron's, trickling down her face and onto his red hair. She cried for Ron's suffering and for Lizzie's demise. She had not known Lizzie, had barely said two words to her, yet when she had spoken to her, she had seen how nice a girl, how wonderful a person she was.

Finally, Ron pulled away, though did not meet her gaze, instead opting to look at her shoulder.

"She... I saw it..." he said, his voice shaking still. "It was... Terence... the one who was chasing me when I ran into you that day?" Hermione nodded her head, stroking Ron's ginger locks. "She was just there... just collecting berries... and before I could say anything... before I could... could do anything, he'd thrown the knife and... and she was g-gone..."

"Ron," she said softly and Ron shook his head, struggling to keep in the tears.

"She didn't deserve it!" he shouted. "She didn't!"

"No, Ron, she didn't." Hermione told him. "No one deserves this."

"She was thirteen!" he yelled, pulling away from Hermione completely. "She was thirteen! She'd never done anything to anyone! Every day she'd come over and buy the eggs our chickens lay! _Never_ tried to scam us or get the eggs for free – she'd always pay the full amount, never weasel her way out like others did! She and Ginny got along so well! Oh, bloody hell, _Ginny_!" Ron swung his head dramatically and buried it in his hands. "She's probably sobbing her eyes out."

Hermione wiped her hand across her face, brushing away the tears.

Finally, Ron looked up at her, letting their eyes lock on each other. Hermione wanted to cry out at how devastated Ron was, how horribly red and wet his eyes were, how filled with anger they were. "I was supposed to protect her," Ron told her, not looking away. "I was... we were in this together, her and I... I told her that! When her name was called, I didn't care if I was chosen! If I was chosen, I'd be able to protect her, make sure no one hurt her!" he took a deep breath to calm himself, but it didn't seem to do anything. "And I failed. I failed!" he stood up as if to illustrate his point. "I didn't protect her! I didn't do a bloody thing to stop that arse from killing her!"

"Ron, you couldn't have. What could you have done?" Hermione asked him, looking up at his fierce, angry expression. "Lizzie... you couldn't have helped her."

"I should've... I should've done something..." Ron's body swayed and he struggled to keep his balance. Hermione quickly stood up and wrapped her arm around his waist to stop him from falling. Gently, she lowered them both down so that they were sitting on the bed again.

"Ron, you couldn't have. You would have if you could. But it wasn't possible."

"I should've stayed with her." Ron said quietly, looking down at the ground. "I should've included her in Harry's and my plans. I should've and I... I just _left _her..." he whispered those words harshly, almost spitting them. "I should've been the one that died."

"NO!" Hermione said firmly, getting up off the bed and kneeling on the floor between his legs. "I will not sit by and let you say that, Ronald Weasley! Don't you dare say that every again!" She stared up at his face, shocked at the fact that he actually believed what he'd said.

"Don't pretend it isn't true, Hermione!" Ron shouted at her. "I abandoned her!"

"So you made a mistake!" Hermione exclaimed. "People make mistakes! It just shows you're human!"

"Lizzie never did a thing wrong and she's gone!" Ron yelled. "But I left her and I'm still here, what the hell is wrong with this world? She's gone and I'm not! I don't deserve to live! I'm the wor—"

_Slap_.

Hermione gasped, looking at her hand.

Had she just slapped Ron Weasley?

Hermione glanced up at him with wide brown eyes. Judging from the dumbstruck look on Ron's face, she had indeed just slapped him. Gently, but enough to smack some sense into him – literally.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered. "I—"

"Don't worry." Ron said, his voice calm and low. "I needed that."

"You did." Hermione replied. "Ron, please don't ever say anything like that again. You know it's not true."

"Yeah," Ron said, swallowing.

"Don't... you're wonderful, Ron." Hermione said. "You really are. I... I couldn't bear listening to you say anything otherwise."

"Thanks," he whispered.

Hermione watched as he stared at the ground, contemplating what had happened that day. She observed him, studying him. It was amazing how he could affect her, how quickly he could fire her up – to the point where she slapped him. He could make her feel awful, but at the same time he could make her feel so good. It just showed how easily she could let him get to her – how easily she let love get to her. It was undeniable. She loved Ron. She loved the passion he had for everything, and her dream was to, one day, have even a small shred of it directed at her.

But not today. Not tonight. Tonight, she would comfort him and help him through his grief, and not because she wanted him to love her, but because she loved him, and that was enough.

_A/N I was a little hesitant about Hermione slapping Ron, and I know some of you may not be pleased with it, but I decided that Ron needed it and my beta, Sophie, agreed, and it also shows how the atmosphere between them can change so quickly and how Ron affects Hermione. Please leave a review letting me know what you thought about the chapter, and the next one will be up in about a week. Thanks for reading!_


	16. Impending Doom

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 16: Impending Doom_

Harry had been allowed in the tent soon after. He looked uneasy, unsure as to how to act around Ron. The evening was quiet and Ron didn't say much. All he did was sit on his bed, clinging onto Hermione as if the world would crumble if he didn't have anything to hold onto. Hermione was only glad to be his support and let him hold onto her as long as he needed to.

They only moved from their position when Hermione stood up to prepare for bed. Harry had taken the first watch, and he and Hermione had made a silent decision to let Ron sleep tonight and not let him stand guard. He would wake Hermione halfway through the night for her turn. Hermione decided she'd go to bed a little earlier than usual so that she could get a bit more sleep. She turned back to look at Ron, only to find him looking back at her with wide and fearful blue eyes.

"Where're you going?" he asked, his voice still shaking.

"I need to get ready for bed." Hermione told him.

Ron swallowed nervously, his eyes quickly darting away from hers and onto the mattress he was resting on, before glancing up at her again. "Stay with me," he begged, and Hermione was shocked to hear the terror in his low plea. "Please?" he added. "I mean, only if you want to, but I..."

Hermione sat back down next to him and she heard him let out a small sigh of relief. "Of course," Hermione said. She wanted to reach up and brush away a few strands of his hair away from his eyes, but was worried about how he'd react. _Just do it_, her mind told her, and she gave in to temptation and swept her hand across his forehead. "Whatever you want," she added. Rather than recoiling, Ron leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. "Let me just get my blanket and pillow, all right?"

Ron nodded, but seemed reluctant to let her go. Hermione gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Ron nodded again, a bit more surely, and let go of her arm. "Yeah, sorry, I just..." but he did not finish and simply let his voice trail off.

"It's okay," Hermione told him soothingly.

Ron didn't take his eyes off her, making Hermione feel self-conscious but at the same time glorious. "Thank you," he finally said, quietly but earnestly.

Hermione retrieved her blanket and pillow and made her way back to Ron. Ron scooted over immediately and crept under his blanket, giving Hermione space to lie on her pillow. She let her blanket fall over Ron and went underneath the two quilts, closer to Ron. Ron reflexively wrapped his arm around her and she rested her forehead against his chest. They'd done it enough times to know how they both slept, what positions they liked to be in and what was most comfortable for both of them.

And the moment her head came into contact with Ron's warm chest, the moment she heard his beating heart against her ear, she knew exactly why Ron didn't want to let her go. He needed to know she was alive, he needed the confirmation, and she needed the same thing. The reassurance, the comfort – it was almost addictive. Hermione didn't want to move at all. She wanted to stay in Ron's embrace forever. And Ron had lost a dear friend today. It was only natural that he'd want to make sure he didn't lose another one.

_He would never lose me, though,_ Hermione decided. Ron Weasley would always have her.

* * *

Sleep appeared to have helped Ron quite a bit. The next day seemed to be easier for him. He took part in conversations Harry and Hermione had, and when he first cracked a smile Hermione wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him in relief. Her Ron was coming back – her Ron was going to be all right.

Each day, Ron appeared to be getting better. He seemed to have accepted Lizzie's death and was now trying to get through the difficult mourning phase. Each day he took little steps closer to where he was before his friend's death. He would talk more, smile more, laugh more and live more and more every day.

Day after day, however, Hermione began to notice small changes in Ron's behaviour, things that wouldn't be too obvious had they not been observed from Hermione's eyes; Hermione, who, surprisingly, even for her, knew him unbelievably well despite how little time had passed since their first meeting.

She wasn't entirely sure if these new changes in Ron's manner were permanent or simple things that would go away after some time, things that had just sprung up after Lizzie died and were there because Ron was still haunted by memories of her final moments. She knew that he was. When she slept beside him, she would wake to find him shaking or murmuring in his sleep, sweat glistening on his forehead. It worried her, but she knew that he would heal eventually.

Ever since Lizzie's death, though, Hermione had noticed Ron had become extremely protective of her and Harry. He constantly worried about them, and in other situation it would have been extremely amusing seeing the ever-calm Ron fuss over them, but Ron's sudden change of character concerned her.

"We're running out of food," Harry commented one afternoon as they sat outside enjoying the brilliant sunlight. "Do you two want me to go get something? Fish? Meat?" He stood up.

"No, that's all right, Harry." Hermione told him, standing up herself. "You went last time, I think it's about time I went."

"You sure?" Harry asked, looking awfully tempted to sit down again. Hermione knew why; it was a beautiful, pleasant day and Ron seemed to be in the best mood he'd been in since Lizzie's death. Harry had been just as worried about Ron as she had and it showed how close they were and how wonderful their friendship truly was. Harry didn't want to dampen the day by going out in search of food.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "It's only fair, and I need to stretch my legs a bit."

"Okay," Harry said gratefully, sitting down. "Thanks."

Hermione turned around to leave when Ron suddenly stood up. "Wait," he called out to her.

Hermione turned back to face him. "Yes, Ron?"

"You can't go out by yourself." Ron said, as though it were obvious. "I'll go with you."

"Ron, I'll be fine," Hermione began.

"No, don't. There's eight of us left. These guys are the ones that killed everyone else and they'll probably have no trouble getting rid of you too. I'm not letting you go out by yourself."

"You're not _letting_ me?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows. "I don't need your permission."

Ron let out a frustrated sound that was a mixture of a growl and a groan. "Hermione!" he exclaimed, whining. "Just let me come with you, all right?" He glanced up at her, and Hermione knew she was lost the minute those deep blue eyes locked with her chocolate brown ones. "Please?"

She sighed, nodding her head. "Fine, if you want to," she resigned.

Ron gave a small sigh of relief. "Yeah, I do." He said.

"All right," Hermione said. "Come along, then."

Ron took a few steps towards her so they were side by side. "See you, mate," he said to Harry and Hermione gave him a small wave. Harry simply waved back and Ron and Hermione walked over to the bush, pulled back a few twigs and walked through into the main part of the forest.

"Harry could have gone with me, you know," Hermione began conversationally as they walked along a trail keeping an eye out for any food. "You could have stayed behind."

"I haven't been putting in my fair share of work lately," Ron said sheepishly. "Felt it was about time I did something." Before Hermione could respond, he added, "Besides, walking with you isn't that bad."

Her lips curved upwards at that and she felt even happier when she noticed Ron was smiling too.

Her smile faded as she remembered what he'd said right before that. He'd purposely added the final sentence to change the subject. Hermione was smarter than that, though. Ron Weasley was not going to get away with this. "Ron," she began, "you do realise that you had every right to not do anything."

Ron swallowed nervously, not looking at her.

"Ron, you lost a close friend of yours," she reminded him.

"You think I don't know that, Hermione?" Ron snapped. "You think I haven't been thinking about that these past few days?"

"No, of course not," Hermione started, "that's not what I was implying at all."

"Well then, what _were_ you implying, Hermione?" Ron said harshly.

"Good Merlin, Ron, there is no need to get so defensive!" Hermione exclaimed. "All I was doing was trying to be comforting and trying to let you know that you don't need to feel guilty about not putting in, because Harry and I know that you're going through a rough time and need to have a break!"

Ron fell silent and tried to look dignified. "Oh," he said simply. "Well, uh... sorry."

Hermione gave him a small smile to show that it was all right. She was quite pleased to see how much Ron had matured since the beginning of the games. Now, he could see when he was in the wrong and would quickly apologise. Earlier, it would take him ages to see he was wrong, even longer to admit it, and then an eternity for him to apologise.

She stepped forward and gave him a hug, standing on tip-toe and coiling her fingers around his neck, burrowing her face into his shoulder. Ron seemed stunned for a moment but wrapped his arms around her shortly after.

"What's this for?" he asked quietly.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up and was grateful that Ron couldn't see. "I'm just... I'm just glad you're getting back to normal," she said.

Suddenly, she heard a scream and all traces of her embarrassment were put to the back of her mind. She pulled away from Ron immediately, looking around to see what caused it.

"What was...?" she began, but Ron was already turning around on the spot, searching for it, but making sure he was still within arm's reach of Hermione.

There was a groan and Hermione turned to her right and saw, in the distance, some blonde hair sticking out from behind a few bushes.

"Ron," Hermione said, pointing in that direction.

Ron immediately whirled around and looked wildly towards where she was pointing. "Wait here," he breathed and a split second after that he was racing over there.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, stumbling after him, caught off guard by his sudden movement. "Ron, what are you doing?!"

He did not provide her with a response and she began chasing after him, calling out warnings like "Ron, you don't know who it is!" and "Ron, it could be dangerous!" He still wasn't acknowledging her, which made her get angrier at the stubborn, impulsive prat. "Ron, you git, get back here!" she exclaimed. She continued to run after him though she knew it was of no use; Ron's legs were much longer than hers.

He turned a corner and was hidden from view, only his bright hair visible through the leaves as he surveyed the scene. He appeared to be saying something to the person crouched down on the ground.

"Hermione!" he shouted and Hermione ran as fast as she could over to him, frightened at how alarmed his voice was.

"Ron, I told you not to run off—" she began to chide him as she turned the corner, then her voice trailed off as she looked at who was lying on the ground.

It was thirteen year old Callum Oakley. His face was a ghastly ghost-white, his blue eyes rolling into the back of his head. Ron was holding his back with his large hand and if Ron wasn't there to support him, Hermione was sure Callum would have fallen onto the ground completely.

"Do something, Hermione," Ron told her and Hermione surveyed Callum quickly. His left leg was exposed, the fabric from his jumpsuit rolled up to his knee. Just above his thin ankle were two indents from which blood was slowly oozing out.

Hermione crouched down beside Callum and Ron lifted him up a little higher, trying to get him to stay alert.

"You were bitten by a snake, weren't you?" Hermione asked softly.

Callum merely groaned. Hermione could just make out a 'yes.'

"Okay," Hermione said, her mind already racing, trying to come up with a solution to this situation. "Ron, stay alert, the snake could still be here." Ron nodded and let his eyes dart around wildly, surveying their surroundings. "All right, Callum,"Hermione began, "I don't know too much about snake bites, but if you can answer my questions, I can try and think of something, all right? We _will _help you."

Callum tilted his head downwards slightly, too weak to fully nod.

"All right, good,"Hermione said. "Now, can you describe what the snake looked like? Did you see it?"

Callum did his half-nod again, then murmured, "orange."

"An orange snake?"Hermione said aloud, awfully confused. "Ron, do you know of any?"

Ron pursed his thin lips together in thought. "I don't think so," he finally said. "I don't know too many snakes at all, really. It could be a corn snake..." Then he shook his head. "No, it wouldn't be a corn snake. They hardly ever bite. They're pretty harmless."

Hermione let out a hmm. Callum merely groaned. She then realised that they didn't have much time to save the young boy. "Is there anything else it could be?" she asked Ron.

"I'm sure there are other orange snakes out there, Hermione," Ron said. "But I don't know. Sorry."

"That's fine,"Hermione said, nodding her head. "I think there's a very good chance that the snake was created by gaming officials."

"What do we do then?" Ron asked. "Do you think those snakes are..." his voice trailed off and Hermione saw him gesture ever so slightly towards Callum with his head, making sure that the little boy wouldn't see.

_They could be venomous and life-threatening, yes, _Hermione thought, and Ron seemed to gather as much from the expression on her face.

"I have some dittany," Hermione suggested, rising up a little so she could retrieve the small vial from her back pocket. "Would that help?"

Ron shrugged. "Give it a go," he said. "We need to do something."

Hermione took out a bit of cloth and dabbed some dittany on it. She quickly pressed it down onto Callum's bite marks. He hissed slightly and Ron rubbed his shoulder soothingly, murmuring words of comfort. Hermione felt a tender feeling of affection towards him as he calmed the young boy. Ron glanced up at her and Hermione's eyes darted down onto Callum's leg. She pulled away the cloth and the wound had healed significantly.

"How does that feel?" she asked him.

Callum scrunched his face slightly but nodded. "Better, yeah," he said, his voice clearer. "Still really hurts... feel... really weak."

"That's all right," Hermione said reassuringly. "You sound and look better all ready."

"Yeah, good job, mate." Ron said to him, giving him a soft pat on the arm. His blue eyes met Hermione's brown ones. "Well done, Hermione."

Hermione ducked her head down. "It was only dittany."

"You thought to bring it, though," Ron said. "Bloody hell, your preparation is amazing."

Hermione didn't really feel like she'd done anything special, because really, who wouldn't carry dittany around in these games, but accepted the compliment nevertheless. "Thank you," she said.

"Thank _you_," Callum chimed in, sitting up a little further on his own. Hermione was pleased to see some colour was returning to his face.

"It's all right, Callum," Hermione answered. "Do you need anything else?"

Callum shook his head.

"All right, then. Ron and I would better be going." she said, and glanced over at him. He was frowning, but stood up anyway.

"Yeah, see you, Callum. Good luck with everything. Really."

Callum smiled up at them. "Thanks." After a pause, he added, "You too."

Hermione gave him a small wave and walked away from him, Ron following behind her. She knew something wasn't quite right with him. Normally, Ron would be in front of her, calling out for her to catch up to his long stride, grinning at her and naming her things like 'Turtle' and 'slow poke' and 'Longsfly 1000' which, according to him, was 'the slowest broom to have ever existed, ever.'

Now, though, he was quiet and slow and whilst Hermione wanted to appreciate being ahead of him for once, she knew she had to make him feel better and get things back to normal.

"Look who's the Longsfly 1000 now," she said, turning to face him, a large grin plastered on her face in hopes that might cheer him up.

Ron didn't smile, though. Instead he said, "We shouldn't have left him."

Hermione paused, a creasing her forehead on confusion. "Why not? He was better."

"I... I don't know if he will be." Ron said, swallowing nervously.

"What do you mean?"Hermione asked after a pause.

"Well," Ron started, "the venom is still in his blood, isn't it? The venom from the snake is still inside him. Just because we stopped him from bleeding doesn't mean he's going to be all right. He probably looked better because it hurt less. He'll be in less pain, but... the bad stuff's still there, right?"

Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw slackened as she realised Ron was right. "Oh, good Merlin..." she whispered, putting her hand to her mouth. "You're right." She let out a small, soft cry. "Oh, God, you're absolutely right."

Ron simply looked at her, appearing as torn up as she felt.

"Oh, dear." Hermione simply said.

"You don't happen to know any spells to get the venom out, do you?" Ron asked hopefully, but knowing it was no use.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't." She said dejectedly.

They fell silent.

"Do we go back?"Hermione asked. "So that he's... he's not alone?"

Ron opened his mouth to reply when suddenly the world around them was woken with a loud, violent _boom_. Birds quickly flew up into the air, possums and rabbits scurried in bushes and leaves shook, some of them falling to the ground.

A cannon was the result of all this.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet and low.

Ron licked his thin lips and nodded. "Probably."

Hermione let out a sound that seemed a mix of a sigh and a cry and closed her eyes. In a second she felt warm arms wrapping themselves around her and she fell into Ron's chest, making herself at home in Ron's embrace. His lips gently pressed against the top of her head and she let out an involuntary sigh at that. Dear Merlin, he could make her feel so _good_.

_Another one down,_ Hermione thought. _Seven to go_. As saddened as she was about Callum's death, there was another thing that it meant, something that made chills run down Hermione's spine.

Three of those seven were her, Ron and Harry. This meant they made up nearly half of the tributes left.

Sooner or later, at least two of the trio would die.

And now, with Callum's death, it seemed as though it would be sooner.

_A/N I just finished watching Daniel Radcliffe's _The Woman In Black_. Quite spooky if you ask me, but a great movie._

_Thank you for reading!_


	17. Alive

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 17: Alive_

Hermione woke up early the next day. The first thing she sensed was that it was hot – extremely hot. She was drenched in sweat. Hermione quickly flung her blanket off of her and took in a deep breath. It was stifling.

Glancing over at Harry, she realised she was not alone. Whilst Harry had not yet woken up from the extreme heat, his scarred forehead was glistening with sweat. Hermione stood up and walked the few steps to his bedside. He was in a sleeping bag, which meant it would be very difficult to get him out of it, so Hermione reached down and poked her wand into it, quietly murmuring a cooling charm. Harry sighed in his sleep, a smile beginning to form on his peaceful face.

"It's like hell, innit?" Someone commented.

Hermione whirled around to find Ron sitting just inside the tent, on guard. He was red in the face and was breathing heavily.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

"Not at all." He said in response. "Sun's not even fully up and I feel like going into a freezer and never coming out."

Hermione walked back to her – well, Ron's, really –bed and sat on the edge of it, staring at Ron. "How long has it been like this?" she asked him.

"Few hours, I'd say." Ron answered, lifting his arm up and brushing his red hair out of his eyes and away from his freckled forehead.

"It's the Capitol's doing, obviously." Hermione said, frowning. There had been a few times when the gaming officials had altered weather conditions in the tournaments. A few years ago there had been a severe snowstorm which had buried several tributes alive. Apparently, a few years before Hermione had been born, there had been a surprise thunderstorm which had struck several trees, crushing a few tributes. A few other contestants had died from being struck by the lightning itself. Hermione had seen the weather being controlled many times throughout her life.

"What do they want it for, though?" Ron asked her.

"What do you mean?"Hermione asked in response, her frown forming a crease in her forehead.

"Well, every time the Capitol does something, every time they change the conditions here, it's for a reason, innit?" Ron reasoned. "I just don't get what they're trying to do here."

Hermione bit her lip and glanced down at the ground in thought. "You're right." She said. "I suppose there's a chance of some of us getting heat stroke, but that seems too simple for the Capitol..."

"Hm, yeah," Ron murmured.

"I suppose all we can do today is just stay here, in the tent, in the shade, away from everything and whatever the Capitol is planning for everyone." Hermione said. "You can come in, if you want. I'm sure no one will ambush us tonight. Besides, we're both pretty alert so we'll be all right if anything does happen."

"All right," Ron agreed and stood up, sighing as he did so. "You mind casting a cooling charm on this place?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione said and raised her wand, saying the incantation again as Ron walked over to her and sat down by her side.

"I'm terrified about how much worse it'll get later on." She commented.

"Yeah, it won't be easy to deal with." Ron said, sighing. "Back at home, we'd handle this by going swimming in the lake."

"You had a lake?"Hermione asked with wide eyes. Before the Hunger Games, she'd never even seen a lake. To think Ron had a lake of his own back at home...

"Yeah," Ron said, and Hermione could almost hear the unsaid _obviously_. "Nearly everyone had something like a lake. Well, I suppose compared to others, our lake was more like a pond, but, still, it was nice to swim in during summer. Fred and George would have cannonball competitions; see who had the biggest splash. Ginny would always be the judge."

Hermione smiled. "It must be nice to have brothers and sisters," she said.

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, it's pretty good… most of the time," he added, grinning.

"What I would give to go swimming in a lake with my family," Hermione said, her smile turning sad as she thought of her parents at home, probably asleep. Dear Merlin, how she missed them.

"You honestly didn't have lakes in District 3?" Ron said incredulously after a pause.

"No," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "We didn't have backyards, let alone anywhere to place a lake, or pool. Behind the back of our house was the back of another house, and that house stood on a street filled with factories and sheds with supplies."

"Blimey," Ron said."Our home was smack bang in the middle of a field and around us were the animals we had and a short walk from us was our lake. We'd go down there nearly every day every summer. When Ginny and I were little, our brothers Bill and Charlie would carry us there."

"Wow," Hermione said. "We really are from completely different worlds."

"Yeah," Ron replied.

Suddenly they heard a tired groan. Hermione and Ron twisted their heads to look at their friend, who was stretching on his bed as he woke.

"Blimey!" he exclaimed as his body took notice of the heat and began to wriggle out of his sleeping bag.

"Yes, it's incredibly hot, isn't it?" Hermione commented.

"That's an understatement," Ron said to her.

"The Capitol did this, didn't they?" Harry asked them, sitting up and turning around to face them so that his thin, scrawny legs dangled off the side of the bed.

"Yes, that's what we think." Hermione answered.

"Pwa," Harry said, lifting a hand up and fanning his face. "What are we going to do about it?"

"There's only one thing we can do, really," Hermione said. "We're just going to have to put up with it. We'll need to stay in the tent and continue to cast cooling charms."

"Yeah, I suppose that's all we can do," Harry agreed.

"Not really," Ron chimed in, leaning forward so that he was part of the conversation. "We could go to the lake. Have a swim."

Harry looked awfully tempted by that idea; his green eyes seemed to twinkle at the very mention of it. But, before he could reply, Hermione spoke. "Absolutely not."

Ron and Harry turned to look at her sharply. "Why not?" they both asked.

"That's exactly what the Capitol wants, isn't it?" Hermione reasoned. "We're not the only ones suffering through this heat. Don't you think that everybody else is going to get the same idea as you, Ron?"

"Too average an idea, huh?" Ron shot back rather crossly.

Hermione sighed and raised her hand to her forehead, rubbing her temple wearily. She really did not feel up to dealing with Ron's insecurities and ever changing mood. "It's not that and you know it, Ron," she sighed. "We can't leave this tent today or... however long this heat wave lasts."

Ron huffed and crossed his arms, but Harry kept eye contact with Hermione for a moment, then nodded. "Hermione's right," he said.

Ron shrugged, looking as though he'd given in. "Isn't she always?" he said, then raised his wand to cast a cooling charm around the tent.

The heat continued throughout the day, despite the numerous cooling charms they'd all cast. The sun beamed down on the arena, scorching and strong. Hermione felt like she was on fire. A few times she had mistaken beads of sweat trickling down her back for flames tickling her body.

Ron and Harry didn't look any better. They were playing chess, trying to occupy themselves and forget about the sweltering heat, but it did not seem like it was working. Ron continued to ask if they could go to the lake. Harry looked more and more eager to say yes, but the 11 he'd earned in training shone when he refused to give in to the tempting suggestion. Hermione was beginning to think it wasn't that bad an idea.

_The heat is making you delirious, Hermione_, she thought to herself, and shuffled backwards on her bum, turning around so she could lie down on the bed. "I'm going to take a nap, if that's all right," Hermione announced.

Harry did not look up from the chess board but merely nodded. He looked completely engrossed in the game, determined to find a way to beat the champion. The said champion, however, did look up and said, "Yeah, sure."

Hermione closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning. It had been hurting quite a bit today. She needed water, but they were running out and she didn't know how long they would have to stay away from the lake. She needed to save it. She had to save it.

_Don't get up and drink it, Hermione. Just sleep. Take a nap._

Hermione turned onto her side, away from Harry and Ron and their chessboard and allowed herself to succumb to sleep.

"Hermione, wake up," a persistent voice said into her ear.

Hermione sighed and rolled away from the voice, burrowing her head into her pillow.

"Come on, Hermione, we've got to show you something," someone said, sounding as though they were further away from her than the first voice.

"Don't tell us you're not even the teeniest bit curious," the first voice said, and Hermione knew they were grinning. "You'll only find out if you get up."

Hermione sighed once more. Stupid Ron Weasley and his stupid way of knowing her too well. Of course he'd use her curiosity against her. She rolled over and opened her eyes to find Ron Weasley's face hovering above hers. It was rather close, not that she minded.

Evidently, Ron didn't seem to even notice their close proximity. "There she is," Ron said, grinning down at her.

Hermione couldn't help but smile and blew a frizzy hair away from her eyes. Ron got the full force and shot back dramatically. "Wow," he exclaimed, his grin widening.

"Sorry," Hermione said, sitting up and tucking a few more loose strands behind her ear. "What was it you wanted to show me?"

"Oh, right," Ron said, casting a glance at Harry who was behind them. "You want to tell her, or should I?"

Harry didn't answer Ron, instead opting to tell straight away. "Ron found another source of water!" he said.

Hermione raised her eyes in surprise and lowered her head slightly as if to say, 'honestly?' "Really?" she voiced.

"Yeah!" Ron exclaimed, looking rather pleased with himself. "It's a waterfall, and the water in it falls into a little pond. It's in a small clearing, sort of like this one. I don't think anyone's found it before us. There weren't any footsteps leading up to it, or in it. It's pretty secluded."

"Wow," Hermione said, stunned that no one else had seemed to have found this place. "How did you see it then?"

"Harry's taught me how to find clearings," Ron said, gesturing towards Harry. "He knows about trees and forests pretty well, you know."

"Of course," Hermione said. "So, I'm assuming you want to go there?"

"Bloody hell, of course!" Ron exclaimed. Harry let out a laugh at that. Hermione bit her lip uncertainly - all of them leaving the tent? She didn't particularly fancy that idea. It had happened before, when Ron had left to find them during the forest fire, but they had made their way back to the tent from the lake, a journey they knew well. Hermione and Harry hadn't been to this place at all, and Ron had only been there once. How would they know how to get back? How could they be sure of where they were going? What if Ron forgot which way to go and they wound up getting lost in the woods?

"Please, please, please, please, please, Hermione!" Ron pleaded, falling down onto his knees and putting his hands together in a begging position.

"Ron, get a hold of yourself!" she exclaimed, pulling him up. Ron looked down at her.

"Well?" he asked, with wide and begging eyes. Honestly, the effect his eyes had on her was not unlike the effect young children had on everyone. He could get away with murder with those eyes!

Hermione sighed and nodded her head in a compliant way. "I suppose we could take a look at this place," she said, resigned.

"Oh, brilliant!"Harry exclaimed from behind them.

"Let's go!" Ron said, pulling Hermione up quickly and dragging them towards the entrance flap."Come on!"

"Ron, calm down, it's too hot to run," Harry protested.

"Toughen up, Potter, this place is worth it." Ron declared.

"It better be."Hermione said. "I don't fancy risking so much for nothing."

"Don't worry," Ron told her. "You'll love it."

They walked swiftly, trailing after Ron. It had indeed gotten hotter as Hermione napped, but the promise of a cooling swim reminded her that it was worth it. It would be wonderful. The shade of the trees did help, too.

"I just realised something," Hermione began.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I told you two that we need to stay in the tent today," she said, and immediately saw the two boys exchange a sheepish grin. "Yet, Ron, you left to search for water?"

"Yeah..." Ron said sheepishly. "Thought it couldn't hurt. Besides, if I didn't find anything, I could still hunt and get us something to eat, which wouldn't be a bad thing."

Hermione sighed.

"It was worth it, Hermione," Ron said, stopping at a large bush. "Look, you'll see for yourself."Hermione thought she could hear some running water.

"Is that..." she began.

"It sounds like it," Harry said.

Ron pushed the bush to one side and stepped forward. Hermione and Harry followed. Behind the bush was a smaller, narrower trail, completely covered by tree shadows. Hermione sighed with relief as she stepped into the even cooler shade. The water was getting louder and louder with each step they took.

Ron turned a corner and then he was gone. Hermione and Harry followed him and suddenly Hermione was graced with one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen.

The clearing was picturesque. In front of them was a pond, perfect for swimming in. Rushes of waster crashed into it from the waterfall from which dark rocks cascaded. There was a small ledge a metre or so above the pond, and another one ten metres above, at the top of the waterfall. Hermione breathed in deeply, allowing her nose to greet the delicious scent the waterfall was emitting.

Ron wasted no time in slipping off his boots and socks and running forward and expertly diving in headfirst into the water. Harry stood with her, admiring the view just like her.

"Amazing, huh?"Harry finally said to her, managing to look away from the sight.

"Beautiful," Hermione agreed, nodding her head, eyes not leaving it for even a second.

Ron's head emerged from the water and he grinned up at them, his face brighter than the sun's. "What're you waiting for?" he exclaimed. "Dive in!"

Harry took off his shoes, socks and his glasses and placed them on the dirty ground. As soon as he'd straightened back up, he began running as fast as his small legs could carry him. He crashed into the water and a content smile crept onto his face as he turned to lie on his back.

"Hermione!" Ron called out, standing up in the water. Hermione shook her head, trying to shake away all the thoughts gripping her. "Come on!"

"Right," Hermione said, slipping off her footwear and leaving it beside Harry's and Ron's things. She stepped forward delicately. Whilst it was very hot, she had no desire to jump into the pond straight away. There had been a pool in District 3, and she knew how to swim, but she preferred to allow herself to get used to the water slowly.

"Come on!" Ron repeated, beckoning her to come further forward.

"Give me a bit of time!" Hermione said, giving him a playful glare. Her small feet came in contact with the cool pond and she let out a soft gasp and smiled as if the water were tickling her.

"Good, isn't it?"Ron asked.

"Yes, it's lovely," Hermione replied, and she heard Ron snort and imitate her '_lovely_'.

"Just dive in straight away," Harry called out.

"Yeah, come on, Hermione," Ron said.

"No, I'm fine," Hermione told them.

Ron took a few ungraceful steps forward in the water and extended his hand to her. "You'll be perfectly safe, Hermione," he said reassuringly.

She wasn't afraid of the water, or swimming, or diving in headfirst. She simply didn't want to and she didn't want Harry and Ron to be under the impression that she was afraid of a little water. Hermione hesitated before taking Ron's hand, not wanting him to think that she was scared, but eventually her desire to have some form of contact with Ron won and she lifted her hand up and placed it in his. Ron's eyes widened a little, as if he were surprised that she'd actually taken it. Hermione merely gave him a soft smile, which he returned. How she wanted their smiles to come together, to join as one. Would they pass on their happiness to each other, double their joy? Hermione delicately stepped forward, closer to Ron. He took a shaky step back, her hand still in his and she carefully followed him. Then, suddenly, _splash_.

Hermione resurfaced, gasping. Her hair was hanging in front of her face, preventing her from seeing anything. She could, however, hear Ron's persistent apologies, which he was spilling out mid-laugh.

"Oh, bloody hell I—Hermione... oh, bloody hell, I swear, I didn't mean for—for that to—really, I—"

"Yet you wanted it all the same," Hermione said, lifting her arms up and pulling her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Well, yeah," Ron said, ears turning red. "But, really, I just slipped. Sorry about that."

"It's okay," Hermione said, and dipped down a little lower into the pond, letting the cool water cover her entire body so that only her head stuck out of the water. "You were right, Ron, this was an excellent idea."

"They come to me sometimes," Ron said, shrugging his shoulder.

Harry suddenly turned onto his stomach and plunged into the water, splashes of water jumping along the surface as he went under. Hermione watched as he gracefully swam towards the rocks, holding his breath for quite a long time. She waded over towards Ron and stood next to him, watching as Harry emerged from the water. He pushed himself up onto the rocks' slippery surface and sat up, breathing in deeply and resting for a moment, allowing the bright afternoon sun to warm him up. Then he began climbing up the rocks, up towards the first ledge, presumably to dive from it.

Hermione bit her lip anxiously as she watched him. Ron began to swim forward and she called out, "Where are you going?"

Ron stopped swimming and turned around to face her. "I'm going to join him," he said simply. "Come with me," he added, placing both his hands on her arms and pulling her forward. Goosebumps sprung up on the little skin she had exposed. She hoped Ron wouldn't notice.

"I don't really..."she began, because, truthfully, she _was _afraid of diving from that ledge.

"Hey, don't worry, I won't—we won't let anything happen to you," Ron said to her.

Hermione warily glanced over Ron's shoulder at the ledge Harry was standing on. Whilst it wasn't too high up, it looked very slippery and there was no telling what was underneath. She was already feeling worried about Harry being up there. She bit her lip nervously.

"I'll jump with you, if you want, yeah?" Ron suggested, smiling at her. "You'll be perfectly safe. I'll protect you." Suddenly Hermione realised just how close they were. Everything was Ron and his kind smile and promising blue eyes.

And she found herself being drawn even closer towards him, as if this proximity wasn't enough for her. Ron seemed to be thinking the same way, because she could have sworn he was moving closer, too. And then his promising blue eyes were gone, hidden behind his pale eyelids, and then the whole world was gone and there was only darkness because her eyes were closed too, lips anticipating pure bliss.

And nothing happened.

Suddenly they were drenched in water and wiping their faces with their hands. Harry had cannonballed into the water, creating a mini-tsunami in the process. Hermione watched as Harry rose up to the surface, wanting to scream in frustration.

"Couldn't wait, could you?" Ron called out to him, and Hermione, trying to hide her shock, turned around wildly to face him. Ron, however, was grinning at Harry. "Just decided to jump without me, huh?" Hermione's heart sank slightly and she turned away to hide her disappointment and developing blush.

"It was really hot up there," Harry shot back, "I had to jump in."

"Git," Ron simply said, shaking his head. "Come on, I'll join you this time." He began swimming forward towards the rocks. "You coming Hermione?" Ron turned to ask her, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Hermione glanced up at the rocks, and then at Harry, who looked to have had such a wonderful time diving. Then she looked back at Ron, who was looking at her encouragingly. "You have to have a go sometime, Hermione," he said. "You haven't lived until you do."

Hermione smiled at the boyish glint in his eyes. "Well," she began, "I suppose I'll just have to live, won't I?"

Harry and Ron grinned at her and began to swim towards the rocks. Hermione dove into the clear water and swam after them, making sure her entire body was underneath the water's surface. The three of them emerged together and climbed up to the ledge. It was a tough climb as everything tried to drag her down – her exhaustion, the slippery rocks, her heavy suit – but they reached the top anyway.

The trio looked at each other for a moment, excitement taking over, making them all giddy. Harry and Ron stood on either side of Hermione and grasped her hands tightly. They were ready to jump. They didn't need to count aloud or time their fall. They were so connected, so in sync, that they didn't need to. Together, they made their leap.

It was as if time froze for a moment and Hermione was left floating in the air. Someone was screaming – was it her, was it all three of them? The air had left her lungs and she was terrified because she was in the air, she wasn't in control, but it didn't matter. She was with her boys and she was having the time of her life.

Then time began to move and they crashed into the water, resurfacing moments after. They gasped for air, laughing gleefully. And at that moment, Hermione knew exactly what Ron meant about her needing to do take the leap. The minute she'd taken her foot off the ledge and let fate toy with her, she had been scared, she had been excited, but most of all, she had been so deliciously, wonderfully alive.

_A/N Thought it'd be nice to take a break from the drama. Hope you enjoyed it._


	18. Bliss

_A/N I've been super busy with schoolwork and appointments and preparing for my upcoming holiday, which I leave for tomorrow, so I haven't been able to write much... at all, really. So, unfortunately, this means that the break between chapters will continue to be two weeks. I don't want to make it any longer, and it probably won't be more than two weeks._

_Anyway, thank you for sticking with me. I hope you enjoy this chapter._

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 18: Bliss_

It was quite early when Hermione woke up the next morning, for she had offered to take the final watch. Ron was the one that had awoken her; he'd taken the previous watch. They exchanged a small glance as Hermione passed him and she could feel his eyes on her even though her back was turned. She blushed, grateful that he couldn't see her face.

She took her seat just outside the tent and noticed that although it was still night and the sky was dark, there were no stars. Hermione frowned and looked more closely, then realised that the sky was covered by clouds. Normally, things were a little lighter when Hermione took the final watch. Now, it was still quite dark.

Hermione yawned and stretched her arms. She glanced around at the forest around her, or rather, the silhouette of it. The wind was picking up, making the leaves rustle against each other, causing a crunching sound. Hermione's frizzy hair was flying around her and she struggled to tie it back into a braid.

Then, Hermione noticed something she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before. It was no longer hot. Even without the wind, it was rather cool. In between the strong surges of wind, everything was pleasantly cool, the kind of night time temperature one would take a stroll in.

Hermione glanced up at the sky once more. In the distance, she could have sworn she saw a flash. She closed her eyes and sighed.

_Wonderful, _she thought. _I'll have to sit outside during a storm_.

The flashes continued to get closer and closer. Eventually, she began to hear the low rumbles of thunder. She was feeling quite cold now – there was something very chilling about a thunderstorm.

Suddenly she felt a splatter of water on her face. She reached up and wiped the raindrop off. Quickly, that spot on her face was covered with another drop. Then another and another. Her entire body was becoming wet as the rain began to fall harder and harder. It was a downpour, the thunder only slightly blocking out the sound of the heavy rain. Her entire body was becoming drenched.

Hermione ran back into the tent and closed the flap abruptly. Harry would probably be annoyed with her for not guarding the tent, but, honestly, who would try to attack them in this kind of weather?

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up. "Bloody hell, you're soaked."

Hermione squeezed some water out of her hair before answering. "In case you haven't noticed, Ron, it's raining."

As if to confirm it, there was a clap of thunder at that moment and everything illuminated as a flash of lightning occurred at the same time.

Ron lit up his wand so that there was some light in the tent. "What took you so long to get inside?"

"Someone needed to stand guard, but then things got worse so I decided to come in."

"Bloody hell, you and Harry can be so similar sometimes," Ron said, shaking his head. "'Someone needed to stand guard.' It's a bloody thunderstorm! Just get inside!"

"You would have probably stayed out until I did, too." Hermione pointed out.

Ron didn't say anything to that, probably because Hermione was right and he didn't want to admit it. "You... you could have caught a cold or... and it isn't good timing, you getting a cold now, you know?"

Hermione sighed and got out her wand to cast a quick drying charm on herself. "I'll be fine, Ron. I'm out of the rain, so just drop it."

"Yeah, all right."Ron said. "Just... you've got to take care of yourself, Hermione."

"I do." Hermione insisted. "Do you mind passing me one of those blankets?" She asked, pointing to the two blankets on her and Ron's bed. "I'm a little cold."

Ron shook his head, as if getting out of a stupor and quickly retrieved a blanket for her. "Here," he said, tucking it around her shoulders. He patted her arms gently, rubbing them slightly to warm her up.

"I'm fine, Ron," Hermione repeated.

"Right," Ron said, but gave them one more quick rub before sitting down on his bed. Hermione joined him. "Don't you want to sleep now?"

"No, no," Hermione said. "I have to stay up and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. It's still my turn to keep watch."

"Hermione, nothing's going to happen, have a break," Ron told her.

"I've had a break. I've slept for two thirds of the night and now, it's my turn to do my part."Hermione declared. "But that shouldn't stop you, go back to sleep."

"I wasn't," Ron said. Hermione frowned, not entirely sure what he meant. "I... I wasn't asleep. I mean, really," he began, and Hermione could tell it was a joke, something that would lighten the serious mood, just from the way he sounded, "d'you think a measly thunderstorm would wake me up if I really were asleep?"

Hermione let out a small laugh. "Probably not, good point." She laughed a little longer, Ron joining her. "I thought you might have fallen asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow," she remarked.

"I thought so too."Ron admitted. Hermione could sense there was something he wasn't telling her.

"Why didn't you?" she asked quietly.

Ron looked away from her strong gaze, instead opting to look down at the ground. "I dunno..." he said quietly, but Hermione knew he did. "It's... it's harder without you," he whispered to the floor.

It was something that amazed Hermione about their relationship – the way the mood between them could change so quickly. Both Ron and Hermione were passionate people, who felt with their whole heart, and together, their emotions and feelings could alter so quickly. It was quite incredible how one minute, they could be laughing, and the next minute, they could be talking about something rather serious.

"Yeah?" Hermione managed to finally say.

Ron swallowed, still not looking at her. Hermione knew his ears were red. "Yeah." He said.

"I can't sleep without you either," Hermione admitted in a whisper.

This confession made Ron finally look up. "Really?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, smiling at him.

Ron swallowed once more, quite nervously. Hermione bit her lip, nibbling it slightly. She heard Ron let out a small sigh that sounded a bit like 'oh, sod it,' then she could have sworn he began to get closer to her. Hermione found herself mirroring his actions and they were just about to meet when—

_BOOM!_

Hermione and Ron immediately pulled away from each other upon hearing the startling clap of thunder. Hermione gasped at the sudden sound.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured, burying his head in his hands. "That was unexpected."

Hermione let out a deep breath. "Yeah, it was." She said, panting.

"It was much louder than the others." Ron said. "It's getting closer."

"It's here." Hermione announced.

Harry moaned in his sleep, then let out a cry similar to a baby's. "Is he all right?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Ron frowned, then got up, walking over to Harry's side. Hermione watched as he knelt down beside his best friend, surveying him. "Harry. Hey, Harry."

"Don't wake him," Hermione said gently. "Let him sleep."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said, then backed up to sit on the bed again. Their shoulders and knees bumped together as he sat down rather closely next to her.

For once, Hermione did not blush or look away awkwardly. Instead, her eyes remained on Harry, who was still quietly moaning in his sleep. He was pale and sweaty.

"Ron?" she asked warily.

"Yeah," Ron said.

"Maybe we should wake him?" she suggested. "Do you know what's wrong?"

Ron shook his head."Just a bad dream, I s'pose. I'm sure it'll finish soon. If he's lucky enough to be able to sleep through this, we should let him."

"Okay," Hermione said, nodding her head but still feeling concerned. "Perhaps you should try getting some sleep, too?"

Ron glanced up at her uncertainly. "I... it's not that easy..."

"Give it a go. It might take some time, but I'm sure your body is tired enough that it will fall asleep eventually," Hermione said. "Besides, I... the storm is still pretty fierce, so I'm going to be right here, if that helps." Her face flushed pink and she looked away embarrassedly.

In a quiet voice Ron murmured, "It does."

Hermione cracked a smile but did not dare look up at him. "I'm glad." She whispered.

She heard Ron shuffle back in his bed and sneak under the covers of his blanket. He sighed a "good night," and Hermione said it back just as softly, the tension between them nearly palpable. Goodness, how things could change with those two. How things _had_ changed with those two. Hermione could still remember how in the beginning she could barely stand him and now, she found him to be incredible.

Then, Ron gave her a small nudge with his large foot, causing her to turn to face him. Hermione looked up, ready to chide him for kicking her, and saw him grinning at her sleepily. Hermione bit her lip, trying to hide her smile, but in vain. Some things never would change, but really, there was nothing wrong with that.

The storm managed to die down after a few hours, and with it, so did Harry's nightmares. Hermione had been incredibly relieved when Harry's moans and cries stopped and he managed to sleep peacefully afterwards. The storm had trilled to a light shower and it was now quite cool. Ron had also fallen asleep and his snores filled the silence that had fallen upon the tent once Harry's nightmares stopped.

Harry was the first to wake up, stretching his arms and putting on his glasses, which were lying carelessly on the floor. He patted the floor for a moment before finding them, then after put them on, looked at Hermione and greeted her.

"Good morning, Harry," she asked. "How... how did you sleep?"

"Brilliantly," Harry replied. Hermione was puzzled; it certainly hadn't seemed brilliant at the time. "What are you doing in here? I thought it was your watch."

"It was," Hermione said sheepishly, "but a fierce storm sprung up so I came back inside."

Harry tilted his head slightly to the left, towards the nearest tent wall. "Oh, that's the rain, then?"

"Yes, it's died down now, but the storm was quite intense earlier." Truthfully, Hermione was surprised Harry hadn't woken up during the storm. He'd been so alert these past few weeks, it was quite surprising that he hadn't jumped at the first rumble.

"You can sleep now, if you want," Harry offered. "I slept well, so I can look after the tent for a few hours."

"No, that's all right," Hermione said. "I need to go get us some food. We're running quite low."

"I can do that," Harry insisted.

"I need to get some mushrooms for us, so we can have some soup to warm us up in this weather, and you don't know which ones are safe."

Harry nodded. "All right, if you're sure?"

"Yes, absolutely," Hermione said as Ron began to shift in his sleep. "I'll be back soon."

"Harry, you weren't seriously thinking about letting her out on her own, were you?" Ron asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"I didn't want to, but you were asleep, and we can't have you here all by yourself when you're at your weakest," Harry said.

"Harry's right, Ron," Hermione said. "Your safety is important, too."

Ron shrugged. "Well, I'm up now, so I'll go with you. Where are you going?"

Hermione laughed."I'm going to get some mushrooms."

Ron blanched but nodded. "Okay, let's go then. Hopefully the rain won't get worse."

"It should be fine," Hermione said. Ron slipped out of bed, put on his boots and ran his hand through his hair. Hermione looked away, trying not to blush, all while mentally scolding herself – _you're becoming one of those silly little schoolgirls you vowed you'd never be like!_

They waved goodbye to Harry and walked off together. Hermione was quite stunned when she saw the consequences of that fierce storm. Trees had fallen over, crashing against each other. Branches lay on the ground, ripped from trunks. In the distance, Hermione could see some smoke, but she wasn't sure if it was a tribute's campfire or if it was smoke from a lightning bolt. It didn't seem unlikely. Hermione was very surprised that the tent hadn't been destroyed during that storm. Ron and Harry must have set it up extremely well.

"Bye..."

Ron and Hermione froze. Hermione glanced over at Ron, only to find he was staring right back at her.

"You didn't say anything, did you?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

"No," Hermione said, eyes wide. "The voice sounded quite weak."

Ron glanced around quickly. "We've got to help—"

"We can't, Ron!"Hermione exclaimed. "For one thing, we don't know if they're in trouble, secondly, this isn't helping us, thirdly, we don't know where they are and we don't know if this is a trap or not!"

But Ron wasn't listening.

"Ron, honestly, not this again," Hermione said as he scrambled around her. "We can't keep doing this, it's not—"

BOOM!

That was no rumble of thunder or bolt of lightning. It was the sound of a cannon. It was the sound of a death.

Ron raced forward to a nearby bush and poked his head through. Immediately, Hermione could see his expression change from one of concern to one of mourning and devastation.

"Who is it?"Hermione asked shakily.

"The girl from 11, I'm pretty sure," he said, eyes not looking away. "A tree... it fell on her... crushed her. It looks as though a bolt of lightning hit it."

"Oh, no," Hermione said, memories of Shimmer's death resurfacing. "She must have been terrified... all alone, in the storm."

Ron took a step back and let the branches of the bush bounce into their former position. "We should have helped her," he said to Hermione.

"Ron, you know very well we couldn't have." Hermione told him. "It was far too late. Why do you think she said 'bye'? She knew she would die."

"Well," Ron said, fumbling for something to say. "We should have been there! Given her some comfort!"

"Why are you so intent on helping everyone in the games?" Hermione questioned, taking a step forward towards him.

"It's the least I can do!" Ron shot back.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't there for Lizzie, I... I have to make it up to her!" he said. "I have to... I just... it's not right, letting them all die!"

"Ron," Hermione said softly, taking another step forward and placing her arm gently on his. "They have to..."

"They do not!" Ron exclaimed, snatching his arm away from her. "They don't have to die!" He ran a hand through his hair. "Lizzie... she showed me there's more to the games than this. There... these are all people! They're people with parents... and brothers and sisters... and neighbours... and friends... and people who bloody _care_ about them, and the Capitol wants me to think of them as enemies, people who I should kill and disregard and..." Ron sighed with frustration. "They're people, Hermione, these are all people – we have to help them if they're in trouble! I thought that you would... that you'd think the same way!"

"Don't accuse me of not thinking the same way!" Hermione argued back, fuming at the fact that Ron actually thought that she didn't care. "Of course I hate that they have to die! Of course! How can you think I don't?! What kind of a person do you think I am?"

Ron seemed to see that he took a step too far. "Oh, blimey, Hermione, I didn't... I know... I didn't mean it that way—"

"It kills me that this has to happen! It makes me feel awful, and insanely guilty, and I go into mourning every time someone dies, or at least make sure that I remember who they are, so that I think of them as people and not random faces that never come home! I can list to you everyone that has died by name, if you want—"

"I don't—" Ron started, but Hermione continued.

"There's Lorence from four, Justin and Gloria from five, Stacey from six, Vicky from seven, Dean from eight, Parvati, too, who I actually knew was going to die because Cormac McLaggen went after her and he was hiding in a tree opposite me—"

"He what?" Ron asked, eyes wide with fear. "He didn't see you, did he?"

"Are you saying to me that I didn't care that she died?"

"No, of course not—"

"Because I did – the guilt and remorse practically ate me up! Of course I would have helped her, of course I wanted to – but I couldn't! That rash decision would have been the death of me, and it's the Hunger Games – you've got to make sacrifices! It kills you inside, but that's the purpose of a sacrifice, isn't it?" Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Ron could really push her buttons sometimes.

Ron seemed to realise she had calmed down and finished saying everything she needed to. He took a tentative step forward and said softly, "That's not everyone, you know."

Hermione frowned. "What?"

Ron swallowed nervously. "It... there are others. Who've died."

Hermione softened."No, it isn't."

"Name them all." Ron told her. "Just... if this is being shown over Panem... everyone needs to remember them the way you do."

Hermione looked into his eyes for a moment, feeling quite sombre and mournful. "There's, uh... Lavender, too."

Ron nodded encouragingly.

"Cormac... Shimmer..." Hermione stifled a cry, "Ernie... goodness, does every death have some kind of connection to me?"

Ron gave a soft chuckle. "Keep going."

"Callum, Holly..."

"Lizzie," Ron said, pressing his lips together tightly after saying it. Hermione knew he was struggling not to lose it.

"Ben, from eleven... now Megan, too... and Ben and Annathee from twelve." Hermione finished, and as soon as she'd said that, she took one final step forward and buried her face in his chest, clutching at his jumpsuit as if to say, '_Don't you leave me, too_.'

Ron quickly returned the hug, and she could have sworn he was thinking the same thing.

"So, Ron, you see..." Hermione began, pulling away from him slightly, but making sure she was still in his embrace. "We've got to make sacrifices... you do it in chess... you're just going to have to do it here. That's the only way you're going to get through it."

"Hermione, I don't care if I get through it." Ron voiced.

Hermione's heart nearly stopped at that. "What?" she breathed.

"You still think I care if I make it through this?" Ron asked.

"What on _earth_ does that mean?" Hermione said, taking a step away from Ron and looking at him in shock. "Are you saying you give up? That... that you want to die?"

"No, of course I don't—" Ron said.

"Well, it sure sounded like that, Ronald Weasley, so you'd better explain yourself, and if this is because Lizzie's dead and you feel guilty for some ridiculous reason, then you better snap out of it, because—"

"It's because you're alive!"

Hermione froze. Her mouth closed immediately and she stared at him in shock, unable to say anything. Once again, Ron had left her speechless.

"You want to die because I'm alive?" Hermione finally managed to say.

"No!" Ron exclaimed. "Oh, bloody hell, trust me to even stuff _this _up, I didn't mean it like that!"

"This _what_?" Hermione asked.

"I..." and suddenly it looked as if Ron had turned completely pale, more than usual. A fear had crept into his eyes and it immediately made Hermione fearful, too. She would have thought there was someone behind her, ready to attack them, if it weren't for the fact that Ron's blue eyes were focused firmly on her – as if he were afraid of _her_.

"I..." Ron began again. "I don't want to die... I never said I did."

"You said you don't care if you survive the Hunger Games," Hermione reminded him. "And then you said... it's because of me."

"I didn't mean because you've ruined my life or something ridiculous like that," Ron said earnestly. "Bloody hell, don't... don't even think that for a second! It's actually the... the opposite."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "What?"

"I..." the fear had returned to his eyes, stronger than ever.

"Ron, what is it?" Hermione said.

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to get something to come out of it. "I..." he took a deep breath. "I don't care if I get through this... as long as you survive."

"Ron," Hermione breathed out. "Why on earth would you think that?" She had a feeling she knew, she knew she knew, but it just didn't seem possible...

"Bloody hell, Hermione, do you honestly want me to say it out loud?" Ron said, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You're smart, I'm sure you know—"

"I think I know, but it can't be, it's impossible—"

"I fancy you!" Ron blurted out and Hermione immediately fell silent. "A lot!" He let out a relieved laugh. "Bloody hell, I did it..."

Hermione was still speechless. She felt as if she'd been slapped in the face. Her heart was beating erratically and her insides were going wild.

Ron seemed to realise she had not responded, and looked at her in concern. "I... yeah, I do fancy you. And... and I'm going to spend the rest of the Hunger Games making sure you get out alive. I... Hermione, I know you can't possibly feel the same, but it doesn't really change things, I'm still going to make sure you get out of this and—"

Sparks. Bells. _Magic_.

All this Hermione felt when she pounced on Ron and her lips connected with his. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers played with the ends of his gorgeous, unbelievably soft red hair. His soft lips curved so perfectly around hers as if they were meant for her to kiss and her only. Hermione's head was dizzy, her heart had never felt so alive and she felt as if she were flying.

And then everything grew even more wonderful when she became aware of Ron's long arms wrapping around her and pulling her even closer. One of his large, calloused hands reached up into her hair and began stroking it. Hermione let out a sigh against his lips. He was returning the kiss, he was returning the kiss, because she'd kissed him, and they were kissing—

They were kissing.

_They were kissing._

Hermione's formerly shut eyes sprung open and she pulled back immediately.

"Oh, my God." Hermione panted.

Ron's eyes were wide, the expression on his face one of shock.

"Bloody hell," he simply said.

They stared at each other, breathing heavily, mouths open. Hermione's eyes continued to dart towards his perfect lips, which only moments ago had been pressed gloriously against hers. Oh, how she wanted them to meet again, but—

"We can't do this," she whispered.

"What?" Ron asked, not looking like he was comprehending anything. Truthfully, Hermione wasn't thinking properly either, but all she knew was that what they had just done couldn't be done again.

"We... we can't do this." She said, clearer.

"And why the bloody hell not?" Ron asked, frowning. "If it's because you don't fancy me or that was some pity kiss or—"

"You know very well that is not the case!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron immediately looked stunned. "You... you do fancy me then?"

Hermione raised one eyebrow at him. Honestly, he could be so thick sometimes! "No, I go around kissing people all the time!" she said sarcastically. "Of course I fancy you! How could I not?"

"Easily—" Ron started.

"Ron, stop this. I... I really care about you, but we can't be together." She said.

Ron simply looked at her.

"Ron, we're in the Hunger Games, we can't—"

"Hermione," Ron began, stepping forward towards her. "For once in your life, could you just stop thinking and just _feel_?"

His lips were suddenly on hers again and his arms were suddenly around her again and her mind immediately shut down. She couldn't think even if she wanted to. It was why, for once in her life, she listened to Ron Weasley and simply felt.


	19. Cheat

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 19: Cheat_

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Or a few hours. Or a few forevers. Truthfully, Hermione didn't care about something as trivial as time. She didn't really care about anything, except Ron. Kissing Ron could do that to someone, even someone as responsible, independent and level-headed as Hermione Granger.

She didn't really know who pulled away first. It could have been her. It could have been him. It could have been both of them pulling apart at the same time. She didn't really care. But when they did finally break apart, they quickly put their foreheads together, ensuring they were still connected somehow. It was quite a difficult task for Ron, whose neck was craned quite uncomfortably – he was much too tall, but they were too happy to care.

Hermione panted heavily, her breath mingling with his. He was so close, his smile so wide and contagious.

"I can probably count all your freckles," Hermione sighed.

"It'll take forever and a day, you know," Ron chuckled.

"I've got time," Hermione replied and leaned up to begin kissing each one. "One," kiss, "two," kiss, "three."

Ron let out a content sigh and Hermione pulled away. "Ron, you moved! I'm going to have to start all over again!"

"Oh, no!" Ron exclaimed. "That's a shame!"

Then he leaned down to kiss her again, and Hermione decided she could count his freckles another day.

They returned a short while later so as not to worry Harry. Harry seemed to gather something had happened, either from their extremely wide beams or the sight of their interlaced hands. He raised an eyebrow at them.

"I think I know what took so long," he said, eying Hermione and Ron carefully. "Couldn't find any mushrooms, then?"

"Nope," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders happily. "Looks like we'll have to go out and look again tomorrow, Hermione."

Hermione laughed and gripped his hand tighter.

"Oh, no," Harry said, dramatically putting his head between his knees in despair. "It's started!"

Hermione dropped Ron's hand and looked at Harry worriedly. "You're all right with this, aren't you, Harry?"

Harry immediately looked up at the two of them. "Yeah, yeah, of course!" he insisted. "I'm really happy for you two. Perhaps there'll be less bickering." Then he frowned. "Oh, who am I kidding, of course there won't be."

Ron grinned and sat down next to him. In front of Harry were two cooked fish, left for Ron and Hermione, and Ron immediately took his. Hermione had taught them well, and she was pleased that Harry was now capable of preparing a meal. Though, after having fish so often, Hermione wondered if, should she ever come out of the arena, she would ever have fish again.

She sat down next to the two boys and grabbed her piece, eating it carefully, bit by bit. Ron, on the other hand, was attacking it as if he'd never be able to eat again, and though Hermione still found it quite disgusting, it was a sign of how much she cared for him that instead of snapping at him, she merely rolled her eyes at him and smiled fondly. Ron would never change.

She knew Harry hadn't managed to miss the fleeting glances she and Ron had cast towards each other. While he looked a little uncomfortable, he did look pleased, too, but Hermione was still worried.

This was why when Ron got up to go into the tent, Hermione took the opportunity to speak to Harry.

"Harry," she began, shuffling a little closer to him. "You're okay with me and Ron, right?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, of course! I told you, I thought it'd be great. I had a feeling you guys... you know... would..."

Hermione blushed. "Yes," she said, trying not to smile. "I promise we'll try not to make things uncomfortable."

Harry chuckled. "_Please_ try, yes. But it's all right." He smiled reassuringly at her.

Hermione smiled back at him.

"Just..." he began, then stopped himself.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Be careful."

"Why?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow. "Ron's perfectly safe, he wouldn't hurt me."

"No, of course not," Harry said immediately. "He's my best friend, I know he'd never do anything like that. Besides, he's mad for you."

Hermione's blush returned and she smiled fondly. Then she remembered what Harry had said just before.

"So why do I need to be careful?"

Harry took a deep breath and looked at the ground. "This is the Hunger Games, you know."

Hermione's smile immediately faded. She knew exactly what Harry was implying. "Yes, I know." She said quietly.

"One of you will definitely die," Harry stated.

"I know, Harry," she said, all her doubts about whether she should get into a relationship with Ron resurfacing.

"I'm just saying... be careful."

_It's too late_, Hermione thought, but nodded anyway. "I will."

"Good," Harry said. "Just reminding you."

Hermione nodded again. "Thank you, Harry," she said, leaning over and giving him a small, quick hug. Harry immediately returned the hug.

Hermione pulled away then glanced back at him. "I'll take the first watch," she said to him.

"All right," Harry agreed, looking exhausted, and got up. He entered the tent and the flap swung back and forth several times before finally stilling. Hermione turned to look back at the surrounding forest, grateful for the opportunity to think.

"Checkmate," Ron announced.

Hermione peered over the top of _Herbs and Plants: A Guide_ at Ron and Harry, who were playing chess on the floor.

"Again?" Hermione asked. "Harry, have we ever won a match against him?"

"No," Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes as Ron put his arms up in the air, punching it victoriously. "Really, Ron, it's as if you didn't know you'd win."

Ron shrugged at him. "It's still nice when I do. I like knowing I'm better than you two at something."

"Ooh," Hermione said, sitting up properly on the bed. "What I would give to have some playing cards here with me." She glanced at Ron. "_Then_ I might be able to beat you andrear in that big head of yours."

"Yeah, Ron, Hermione doesn't go for the arrogant ones," Harry said, grinning.

"Shut up, Harry," Ron said, giving him a shove as Harry laughed. He then turned back to Hermione. "You really think you can beat me in cards?" He asked, leaning forward so that he was kneeling beside her bed with his arms resting on it, holding him up.

Hermione placed her book down. "Perhaps not your regular game of cards, as that has nothing to do with skill and all to do with luck, but there's a little game called Cheat, which I happen to be quite good at." She leaned even closer, so that her and Ron's faces were inches away. "You certainly won't be able to beat me at it."

"Of course I will," Ron scoffed. "If the whole purpose of the game is to 'cheat', I've already won. You're too good to cheat Hermione."

Hermione narrowed her eyes upon seeing his arrogant grin. "Watch me." she said.

"I'd love to," Ron said, leaning back a little, "but we don't have any playing cards, do we?"

Suddenly Harry jumped up. "I'll go find some leaves, we'll see if we can transfigure them." It seemed that he was quite excited about rearing in Ron's big head, too.

"Good idea," Hermione said, then settled back against the pillow she'd created. As soon as Harry had gone, Ron hopped up and joined her.

"And what makes you so certain you'll beat me?"

"You wear your heart on your sleeve, Ronald," Hermione told him, not looking up, instead opting to read. "It's like an open book, and I can read it perfectly."

"Not as perfectly as you think you can," Ron said.

Hermione glanced up at him. "First of all, that doesn't make sense. You can't have degrees of perfection. I can't be a little perfect at reading you, or 'not as perfect.' Either I am perfect at reading your emotions, or I am not."

"Alright then, you're not." Ron said, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back a little.

Hermione glared at him and gave him a playful shove. Ron merely laughed.

"Well, you didn't realise I fancied you, did you?"

"That was..." Hermione began, blushing. "I... I thought you might," she admitted quietly. "I wanted you to... but I couldn't get my hopes up... it just didn't seem possible."

"You're completely mental, Hermione." Ron said, sitting up and placing a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to direct her gaze on him. "How could I not fancy you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, ready to list all the negatives about her, some of which Ron himself had pointed out early on, when Harry returned.

"I've got a whole collection of leaves we could use," Harry said, marching in. He then paused. "Did I interrupt something?"

Hermione sat up a little more, shuffling away from Ron slightly. "Of course not, Harry," she said. "Come on, bring them over."

"Are you sure you can do this?" Harry asked as he walked over to them.

"I'll give it a go," Hermione said uncertainly. "I don't see why we can't try."

"Hermione's a genius, Harry, of course she can do it." Ron said to him. "Thing is, I don't know if she'll do it."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. "And why not, Ronald Weasley?"

"Because," Ron said, grinning at her, "You're afraid you might lose against me."

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. "Give me those leaves, Harry."

Harry smirked and handed her some dry, scrunched up leaves. Hermione raised her wand over them and murmured "_immutare corpus__plastic_."

And suddenly the brownish green leaves in front of her were clear and shiny and plastic cards. Hermione saw Ron sit up suddenly and peer over at them.

"Bloody hell, you actually did it!" he exclaimed.

Hermione let out a small laugh. "Why the tone of surprise?" she asked him. "You said yourself I would be able to do it!" Really, however, she herself was quite amazed that she'd actually done it.

Ron's ears turned red. "Yeah it's just... you actually did it... how did you remember the spell?" He looked over at her curiously.

Hermione shrugged. "The spell turns anything into plastic. I thought it might come in handy if I needed to turn something into a bottle. I just remembered it." This was the truth – she had only just learnt the spell in the training period. Mr. Bogs had never mentioned it to her.

Harry seemed to accept this, though Ron still looked uncertain. "Okay," Harry said, "so how do we turn this into a playing deck? We don't have anything to write with."

"We could use some mud, and stick it onto the card with a sticking charm," Hermione suggested. "That could work."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, shaking his head in wonder, "do you know of every single spell that ever existed?"

Hermione blushed. "No... I just have a good memory."

Ron gave her a small grin and rolled his eyes.

"I'll go and quickly see if it works," Hermione said, and got up. She raced outside and cast a quick _aguamenti _on the ground to make it wet. She scooped up the mud and drizzled it gently over each card, forming a number on them. Then, she murmured the incantation for the sticking charm and tested the cards, making sure the mud didn't slide off. It didn't. Pleased with herself, she came back inside into the warm tent.

"Oh, goodness it's cold out there," she said once faced with the comfortable contrast. "I don't know what the Capitol is trying to do. One minute they want to cook us alive, the next they want to freeze us."

"Did you do it?" Ron asked, leaning up on his knees to peer over at the cards.

"Yes, amazingly, I did." She replied.

Harry let out a cheer. "Now we can finally beat Ron at something!"

"Don't brag just yet, Potter," Ron said to him, then looked back at Hermione. "So, I don't really know how this game works. Could you explain it?"

"Oh, of course," Hermione said, sitting down on the bed. Ron and Harry shuffled over to give her room, but as soon as Hermione had made herself comfortable, she noticed Ron move back, closer to her. She smiled to herself, hoping the boys wouldn't notice. "Harry, have you played this before?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he said. "My aunt and uncle didn't play at all, let alone with me. Uncle Vernon did play with his mates sometimes, though, but not Cheat. How does it work?"

"Well, I've got thirty cards here," Hermione began, placing the cards on the bed and spreading them out so Harry and Ron could examine them. "Each one is labelled from one to five. I didn't bother putting any symbols on them, it would have taken too long, and it really doesn't matter for this game. Basically, each one of us takes ten cards, randomly. No one knows what the others have. The object of the game is to be the first to get rid of your cards.

"We go around the circle and start putting cards face down onto a pile. As we put them down, we say what we've just put down. The others have the opportunity to call out 'cheat' or stay silent—"

"What happens if we call it out?" Ron interjects.

"Settle down, Ron, I'm getting to that," Hermione told him, smiling. "If one of us calls out 'cheat', we check to see what the person had placed into the pile. If I had placed, for example, two cards down, one of them being a three, the other being a four, and I said aloud 'two fours' and Harry called out 'cheat', we would see that I had in fact been lying, and I would have to take the entire pile of cards, meaning I'd have to start getting rid of my cards all over again."

"And if you had actually put down two fours?" Harry asked.

"Then you would have to take the pile. See, it's all about lying and lying _well_, something you, Ron," Hermione cast a look at him, only to find him smiling at her, "can't do."

"We'll see," Ron said. "Shuffle them."

Hermione took the cards back and quickly shuffled them. Then, she gave Harry and Ron ten cards each and as they looked at them, she checked hers, seeing what she had. Among her ten cards were four threes, she noticed.

"All right," Ron said, looking up. "Should we start?"

Hermione placed a two onto the bed. "One two," she declared.

Harry put two cards down. "Two fives," he said, a serious expression on his face.

"Cheat." Hermione announced and Harry lifted up the two cards, revealing two fives.

"Not as good as you thought, huh, Hermione?" Ron asked her, grinning as she picked up the three cards.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your turn, Big Mouth."

Ron put a card down and told them it was a four. Hermione didn't protest. They went around once more and when it reached Ron again, he placed three threes onto the pile.

"Cheat." Hermione said.

Ron glared at her as he picked up the pile. "How'd you know?"

"I told you, I can read you well," she said, smiling as she glanced down at her four threes, which, there being only six threes in total, meant that Ron couldn't have possibly had three threes in his possession.

They continued the game, and Hermione enjoyed the break from looking for food and playing chess. It was nice to have something different to occupy them, something to take their minds off the fact that there were six contenders left in the games.

For that afternoon, they were simply three friends out in the forest playing a card game, and all was well.

_I'm sorry about the lack of action, guys. I just need to do a few more things to get the relationship between the trio to where I want it to be. After that, we'll have some action and a bit more focus on death and such. Just stay with me, please? :)_


	20. Almost Gone

_A/N I'd like to apologise in advance for how short this chapter is. I really struggled with this one, and was really disappointed with how it turned out. Sadly, I was so busy and uninspired at the time that I just couldn't rewrite it or fix it. To make up for it, I'm going to post a new chapter in a few days. Also, from now on, I'm going to be posting once a week, which means this story will be finished by the end of the year._

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 20: Almost Gone_

The arena steadily continued to grow colder and colder as the evening progressed. Harry, Ron and Hermione had to repeatedly cast heating charms around the tent, but even that didn't help. They spent the evening snuggled up under blankets, crowded around bluebell flames Hermione had cast. Hermione felt her toes growing numb as they sat on the cool floor alternating between chess and Cheat. It was such a blessing to finally lie down on her bed and close her eyes. Sleep seemed like a good way to escape the cold that was fiercely biting every inch of her.

That had been a few hours ago, and Hermione was still awake. It was still extremely cold, and the two blankets did not help much. She was still shivering and her teeth hurt from the constant chattering.

Harry seemed to be asleep though, however he was another reason Hermione could not sleep herself. As soon as he'd drifted away, Hermione began to hear moans and cries again. She was getting quite worried, and couldn't sleep with the distressed sounds Harry was making. She didn't know whether she should wake him up or let him get some much needed and much deserved rest.

Hermione sighed and changed positions, Harry letting out a small cry as she did. She pulled the blanket higher, up to her nose. Dear Merlin, it was freezing.

"Oh, f-for God's s-sake!" Hermione muttered and shifted positions again, finding the previous one uncomfortable.

Suddenly, she felt the mattress sink a little lower and arms encircle her. Hermione immediately shifted closer to Ron, sighing as she felt him soothingly rub her arms. Already, she was feeling so much warmer.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," she whispered. "I think it's your hair."

She heard Ron chuckle. "I always knew there was something good about being a ginger."

Suddenly Hermione wanted to run her hands through his red locks. To see where she was going in the darkness, she ran her arms along Ron's, up to his shoulders. She had only done it so she'd know what she was doing, but there was an added bonus when Ron let out a relaxed sigh which made her toes curl in pleasure. She grazed the back of his neck gently and then felt around for a few strands of his hair.

"I've always liked your hair," she admitted.

Ron pulled her a little closer. "Yeah?"

Hermione bit her lip and smiled in the darkness. "Yes, very much."

Ron kissed the top of her head. "I've always liked your hair, too."

Hermione snorted, then blushed. What would her mother say to her letting out such an unlady-like sound?

"What was that for?" Ron asked, and from his voice she knew he had a smile on his face.

"Like anyone would like my hair," she scoffed. "It's bushy, tangled, boring and—"

"Bollocks," Ron said, interrupting her and she could feel one hand let go of her. Hermione immediately felt cold and saddened by the loss of warmth, but she smiled as Ron's hand crept into her curly hair. "It's perfect."

Hermione sighed and tilted her head forward so that her forehead was against Ron's chest. This also allowed Ron more access to her hair. "You're going to get your hand stuck in that mess."

"I don't mind," Ron said, smiling. "Go to sleep."

"What about the tent?" Hermione reminded him. "We need someone to guard it."

"I'll still guard."

"What if you fall asleep here?"

"Nah," Ron said. "I'll be right."

Hermione breathed in and out evenly and closed her eyes, feeling more at peace than ever. At that moment, Harry let out another cry.

Hermione opened her eyes and pulled her head away from Ron's chest. He was looking over at Harry's bed worriedly.

"He's been doing that for a while now," Hermione said, biting her lip.

Ron swallowed, eyes firmly on Harry. "Should we let him sleep?"

"He didn't seem to remember the dream when he woke up last time," Hermione replied, turning her head back to look at their friend. "Maybe this time will be the same."

Ron nodded. "All right," he said, then pulled her closer to him, letting her rest her head on his chest. "Come on now, you need to sleep."

"I know," Hermione said to his chest, closing her eyes. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"I know," Ron said, and she could tell he was smiling. "But sometimes you need my help."

Hermione smirked. "Yes, all right, I'll admit that."

"So, tonight, just let me use my fiery hot ginger hair to help you get to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Hermione said, nodding her head. Ron let out a small chuckle as she tickled his chest with her hair. "And the night after?"

She felt Ron kiss her head. "Every night, if you want."

When light began to shine through the clouds the next morning, Hermione was up and awake, watching it. She had taken the final watch, and when Harry had woken her, telling her it was her turn, she hadn't noticed anything different about him. He'd seemed like the same old Harry, albeit a little quieter.

Hermione sighed and lay her palms against the cold ground, leaning back a little. She was growing increasingly worried about her green-eyed, bespectacled friend. What were those dreams? What was Harry seeing in his moment of weakness? What was causing him to cry out? Did he really not remember those dreams, or was he merely pretending for Ron and Hermione's sake?

"Hermione?"

Hermione gasped, jumping slightly upon hearing said green-eyed, bespectacled friend's voice."Harry!" she exclaimed. "You startled me!"

"Sorry," Harry said. "D'you want to come inside, play Cheat? Ron's just woken up and he was all for it."

"All right," Hermione said, scurrying into the tent, grateful for an excuse to get out of the cold.

As soon as she'd walked in Ron had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She smiled as she realised that Ron, who hadn't particularly liked Cheat last night as he'd lost quite spectacularly at it, had probably only agreed to playing Cheat because it meant she'd get out of the cold.

Ron wasn't the only one who was shocked that evening. Hermione had been determined that she'd be the best at Cheat, but it was Harry who'd won all the games. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised when Harry won; as long as it wasn't Ron beating her, she was happy.

Harry's winning streak continued throughout the morning. His poker face was rather good, and though Hermione knew Harry was quite able at keeping his emotions hidden, a part of her couldn't help but feel that Harry might be hiding something else, and she had a feeling this all had something to do with his dreams. When she mentioned it to Ron that evening, Ron had simply scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. He told her she was imagining things and it was rather easy for him to sway her into believing him, because Hermione wasn't quite sure what was going on. Then Ron had proceeded to distract her in a way only he could, and Hermione didn't think much at all for the next few minutes. Ron Weasley was quite skilled at the art of distracting Hermione Granger.

Harry's behaviour suddenly changed the next morning. Although he had said he had no recollection of any odd dreams when Ron and Hermione brought the subject up, he was definitely much more angry, irritable and distant. It frightened Hermione. Harry was usually so kind and selfless. In the morning, he hadn't spoken to them until they'd asked him how he slept, and when Ron and Hermione suggested they have another round of Cheat, he angrily snapped that he had much more important things to deal with rather than play a silly little game, and marched outside.

Now, Ron and Hermione were playing chess together as Harry sat in the cold. Cheat couldn't be played with two people.

"Should we let him back in?" Hermione asked, peering at the entrance flap worriedly. It was awfully cold outside.

"No," Ron said, moving his rook forward. "We didn't kick him out. It's not our fault he's so grouchy today. He can come back in when he's ready."

"Maybe we should talk to him?" Hermione suggested. "We could find out what's troubling him."

"No, Hermione, he wants to be alone. You've got to accept that," Ron said.

"You're right, Ron."Harry said, and Hermione and Ron looked back at Harry who was standing in the doorway.

"Harry," Hermione said, standing up. "Are you alright?"

"No, Hermione, I'm not." Harry replied, going over to his bed and starting to pack his small amount of things into his backpack.

"What're you doing, mate?" Ron asked warily.

"Ever since Lizzie died, I've been thinking about how I'd react if one of you died." Harry said, his anger seeming to have dissipated a little. "Ron, you were a wreck, and if it weren't for Hermione, you'd have probably done something terrible."

"What's your point Harry?" Hermione asked.

"My point is I shouldn't have formed an alliance with you two."

Hermione froze. "Are you leaving us?"

"I've gotten too close to you two." Harry said. "It's dangerous. I've got to leave before things get worse. You can't be weak in this competition."

"So you're saying I was weak and vulnerable when Lizzie died and I shouldn't have been?" Ron asked, frowning angrily. "You're saying I shouldn't care?"

"You can't care!"Harry exclaimed. "Not in this. You can't... you can't care that people are dying. All you need to care about is getting yourself out of this."

"It's not like that anymore, Harry," Hermione replied. "We don't think like that anymore."

Harry swallowed determinedly. "I need to think like that if I want to survive. You've got to, in order to win... I can't stay here. You guys are... you guys are great, and that's the problem. The more I care, the more I have to lose."

Ron and Hermione, **who would usually say so **when they disagreed with something, remained silent in shock.

"Good luck with everything," Harry said and walked out of the tent.

Suddenly, something in Hermione jolted, mobilising her."Wait!" she exclaimed, and ran outside. She heard Ron's footsteps behind her.

"What, Hermione?"Harry asked, turning around. Hermione considered that a good sign – he was willing to listen.

"Harry, you can't leave us-"

"I have to. Remember what I said to you? It's the Hunger Games."

"I know!" Hermione said. "We all know very well. No matter how much I'm enjoying myself when I'm with the two of you, in the back of my mind, there's a persistent little thought telling me 'this won't last, all this will end.' And I know it's right! I know that!" She took a deep breath. "But it's too late for me to leave. It doesn't matter how far away I get from you two. You will still be my best friends and I will still care about you and want to make sure you two are alive and safe and happy. There's no point in me leaving and trying to get away from what I'm feeling, because it won't work.

"But," she said, swallowing nervously. "If you think it isn't too late for you... if you think that getting away will help you... Ron and I will let you go."

Harry sighed and looked from her to Ron and back, and she knew she'd won.

"Let's have another round of Cheat, all right?" Harry said, walking back into the tent and pulling off his rucksack.

Ron glanced at Hermione with relief. She knew Ron would have been devastated if Harry had actually left. Hermione knew exactly why Harry had wanted to go – she had been mulling over whether she should do the same from the very beginning, from when she had first joined Ron and Harry. But what she had said to Harry was the truth – she had passed the point of being their teammate and acquaintance. She thought of Harry and Ron as the two people she was closest to, she thought of them as her best friends, and no amount of distance could change that. Harry seemed to have realised the same thing. Ron, on the other hand, being brought up in a large family, could not even grasp the concept of not staying with those you're closest to, as much as he tried to.

"Thanks Hermione," Ron said to her gratefully.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Let's go lose, shall we?"

A very important moment had just occurred, Hermione thought to herself. Harry had had the option of leaving, which was much easier than staying. Yet, like Hermione, he had chosen the hard option – to stay and potentially endanger himself further. This could only mean one thing.

Hermione wasn't the only one who was in trouble in these games.


	21. The Calm Before The Storm

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 21: The Calm Before The Storm_

After Harry's near departure, things seemed to have gotten better. The three tributes were much closer to one another, having seen how strong their friendship had become. They'd play games, share stories, try to pass the time and forget about the fact that they were getting extremely close to death.

Hermione found it to be one of the greatest times of her life. It felt so wonderful to finally have friends who genuinely cared about her and her safety. She had never expected it to happen, least of all in the Hunger Games, but it had, and all in all, she was grateful for it.

There were only six people left in the games and Hermione was getting nervous. She, Ron and Harry made up half of them. That meant that the next death could very well be one of theirs. It seemed that Harry and Ron were aware of it, too, but they tried not to think about it. Ron in particular, ever happy, ever upbeat, tried to avoid it altogether. Any time things got sombre in the tent, Ron would immediately tell a joke or suggest a game of Cheat or chess.

Currently, that was what Ron and Hermione were playing. Harry had gone out. It had been difficult for Ron to let Harry go out on his own, for Ron was quite convinced that walking about was still dangerous, but Harry and Hermione pointed out that there were fewer tributes out there and less chance of them meeting any of the other contenders. Hermione knew that Ron thought that should Harry run into another tribute it'd be much more dangerous, for the ones remaining were ruthless and determined to win, but he'd said nothing. Hermione knew Ron had a point, but the eleven Harry scored in training meant he'd be all right should anything happen to him.

That didn't mean she wasn't worried for Harry. Quite the opposite, in fact. It terrified her, letting him out, but she knew Harry was right and that really, it was safer going out now as there weren't as many people out there too.

"You're worried, aren't you?" Ron called to her, saving her from drowning in her musings.

"What?"

"I've completely cornered you and you're stuck. Obviously, you'd be worried," Ron said, gesturing to the board.

Hermione glanced down and noticed she was in a bit of trouble. "Oh, right."

Ron smirked at her. "Try moving your rook. If you move it correctly, you'll be fine for the moment."

Hermione's eyes drifted over to the rook as she analysed the different ways she could move it. Nothing seemed to help her get out of the mess she'd placed herself in. She shifted slightly on the floor so that she could get a better view.

Ron chuckled and Hermione's eyes left the board long enough to glare at him. "You look quite nice when you're confused," he said the moment she turned back to the board.

Hermione froze, blushing pleasantly.

"It's sort of cute."

Hermione glanced up at him. His ears were red but he was staring at her unabashedly.

"Are you doing this so that you can get extra leverage over me in this game?" Hermione asked. "I'd like to point out that you don't need any more."

Ron let out a laugh and tilted his head sideways so that it rested on the edge of his bed. "Good point," he said. As he laughed his red hair, which had grown quite a bit since she'd first met him, fell into his eyes.

Hermione's lips curved into a small smirk as she leaned across the chess board, putting an arm down onto the floor so she could balance herself. Once she was steady, she lifted her head up slightly and then she reached up and brushed away the red hair.

She glanced down into Ron's eyes and saw them boring into her. With his hair out of his face, he looked like a little boy, innocent and attentive. She smiled softly at him.

"You're not the only one who knows how to get leverage," she whispered.

Something sparkled in Ron's eyes and his grin returned. His arms wrapped themselves around her so that she would stay right where she was. "You sneaky..." he began, pulling her into him. She let out a laugh as she lost balance and her lower body fell onto the chess board, causing all the pieces to roll onto the floor. Her upper body, meanwhile, found a home against Ron's chest.

"Great!" Ron exclaimed sarcastically, looking at the board, all whilst hugging Hermione to him. She managed to turn around in his arms so that her back was pressed against him, and she laughed at the sight of the floor covered in tiny figures.

"Stop laughing!" Ron exclaimed, trying to have a stern voice. He was quite unsuccessful, as he was laughing with her, too. "I bet you only did that so that you wouldn't have to lose to me again."

"I believe it was your pulling me down that caused me to fall onto the board, therefore, it was your fault. It's perfectly understandable, though. You were finally going to lose to me, and simply didn't want to tarnish your perfect record."

Ron scoffed. "I would have checkmated you in three more moves."

"Yes, well, _I_ would have checkmated _you_ in _one _move."

Ron raised an eyebrow curiously. "Oh, really? What exactly were you planning on doing then?"

Hermione tilted her head to look at him. Then, she pushed herself up and met Ron's lips. Cupping his face with her two hands, she felt Ron's hands fall lower to rest at the small of her back. As soon as she'd breathed in the sigh he released, she knew she'd won.

She pulled away just enough so that their lips would be separated. All she could see was Ron and his deep blue eyes, his long nose, which was grazing hers playfully, and his many, many freckles.

She tilted her head so that their foreheads met. "I was planning on doing that."

Ron swallowed, then grinned. "You can checkmate me like that anytime, then."

"Good, I plan to," Hermione replied and gave him another peck. Ron heaved another sigh and sunk further back against his bed, pulling Hermione down with him. They snuggled closely on the floor, arms around each other and hands locked together. Their feet grazed a few chess pieces that had rolled further away.

"I'm worried about him too."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "Pardon?"

"I know you were worried about Harry," Ron admitted. "I am too."

Hermione sighed. "We really shouldn't be—"

"Why not?" Ron asked. "He's out in the forest with some ruthless killers hunting for him."

"Yes, but there's less of them now." Hermione said. "The chances of him running into anyone are much smaller than earlier on."

"But if he does," Ron persisted, "it'd be so much worse—"

"Ron, this is only making me more worried!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron quieted. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Not only that, but we still haven't established what is happening with Harry in regards to his dreams." Hermione reminded him. "I'm still concerned about that."

Ron shrugged. "We're not any closer now than we were a few days ago. It doesn't really make too much of a difference."

"But I want to know!" Hermione cried, slapping her hand to the cool ground in exasperation. "I hate that I don't know."

Ron chuckled. "Calm down, Hermione," he said, running the hand around her shoulders through her loose, curly hair. "I know it bugs you," he began, voice turning serious again. "I want to know, too. But we can't really do much, can we?"

Hermione sighed and leaned a little further back against Ron's chest. "I guess not." She then tilted her head slightly to look up at Ron. "But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"Of course not," Ron said, smiling, then leaned down to kiss her. Hermione craned her neck further to allow him more space, and whilst it was extremely uncomfortable, she didn't care. Her mind was too filled with all things Ron.

Eventually, she lifted herself up onto her knees, which gave her the advantage of being taller. Hermione wasn't sure if Ron had planned for the simple peck to escalate like this, but she certainly didn't mind.

Ron pulled away panting and with a huge grin on his face. "Bloody hell," he said, and Hermione didn't mind the curse words this time and beamed back at him.

"That was rather nice, wasn't it?"

Ron sighed, his grin only increasing. "Trust you to use the words 'rather nice' to describe a kiss."

Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes.

"Well, I reckon this is a good way to pass the time," Ron said, reaching up and kissing her again.

"Better than chess?" Hermione asked when he pulled away.

"Way better."

Suddenly the ground below them shook and the air seemed to crack as a loud cannon boomed through the arena. Ron and Hermione jumped up, startled and alert.

As the world around them stilled once more, they glanced at each other nervously. With their eyes they asked each other the same question. _Who was it?_

"I don't know," Hermione said aloud. Ron swallowed nervously and glanced at the entrance flap. "You don't think it's—"

"No!" Ron exclaimed, sharply turning to look back at her and silencing her with his powerful stare. "It's not. It's not him!"

Hermione drew in a deep breath to calm herself. There was a very good chance that it may have been Harry who just died, but Ron, being as optimistic and light-hearted as he was, simply didn't want to deal with that. It was why he stopped her from listing the reasons they shouldn't be a couple, back when they first got together in the forest – he didn't want to deal with such negativity, as real and inevitable as it might be.

"He'll be back." Ron said, glancing at the entrance flap desperately. "He'll be back!"

Hermione bit her lip, trying to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. If Ron saw that she was crying, he'd lose it. Instead, she walked over to Ron and put an arm around his shoulders. "We'll just wait," she said.

They stood and waited, eyes not leaving the entrance flap. Hermione didn't know how long they waited, but it felt like an eternity. In her mind, she heard the tick of a clock, growing louder and louder each second. Tick, tick, _tick_, _tick_, TICK, TICK—

"HARRY!" Hermione exclaimed when familiar scruffy jet-black hair appeared, along with a lightning-shaped scar and round, scratched glasses. She immediately let go of Ron and flung her arms around Harry.

Harry weakly hugged her back. Hermione quickly pulled away. "Where have you been? What happened? Are you all right?"

"Stop interrogating him, Hermione, and let him catch his breath," Ron said, going around her and hugging his best friend. "Gave us quite a scare, you did there."

Harry nodded, though he had a grim expression on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine." He pulled his glasses off his face and murmured "_Reparo_."

"What happened?"Hermione asked, trying not to sound too demanding.

"I got into a fight," said Harry simply. He walked past Ron and Hermione and sat down on his bed, sighing as he did. Hermione noticed his jumpsuit was slightly ripped.

"Are you all right?"Hermione asked again.

"Yeah, I told you, I'm fine." Harry repeated.

"Who'd you get into a fight with?" Ron asked in a low voice.

Harry looked up at Ron. "Terence."

Ron's expression, previously one of apprehension, changed into a neutral one that Hermione couldn't decipher. "The guy who killed Lizzie?" Ron asked, as if checking to make sure they were talking about the same person.

Harry nodded. "The one from District 9."

Ron swallowed. "And?"

"And I won."

Hermione peered over at him. "You killed him?"

Harry nodded again. Hermione noticed that he looked rather defeated, and extremely tired.

"How?" Hermione asked.

"I used the Reductor Curse."

Hermione frowned. "But, doesn't that only work on objects, not people?"

"What's the Reductor Curse again?" Ron asked.

"It's supposed to cause a blast and break the target into tiny pieces," Hermione explained. "However, the target is usually an object. I didn't think it could work with people."

"It doesn't." Harry said. "Or, at least, I don't think it does."

"So what happened, then?" Hermione inquired.

"We were at the waterfall, because I'd gone to get water from there. We got into a fight, a few hexes were shot here and there, and then... he was standing next to a large rock. I cast Reductor, the rock exploded, and I don't know whether he died from the explosion or from a piece of rock landing on him, but a cannon was shot and... and he was gone."

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "And you're all right?"

Harry nodded. "I feel awful, but I had no choice, did I? It's not a good feeling, killing someone, but... but I killed someone and I've just got to accept it and keep going with all this." He pulled out a small bottle from his pocket. "Here's some water I got."

Hermione shook her head to rid herself of unwanted thoughts. "Right," she said briskly and took the water from him. "Anyone in the mood for some tea?" she asked. "I have a few tea leaves I found a few days ago."

"Yeah, that'd be good," Ron piped up. "It's freezing. I think it's going to snow soon."

"Yeah, probably will eventually," Harry said, looking like he was trying not to think about what had happened to him.

Hermione settled down onto the ground with water and tea leaves and began to boil the water with a spell. Little did she know that the moment she'd shared with Ron before a cannon shook up their world would be one of the last moments of bliss she'd have in this competition.

A/N I'll be posting the next chapter over the weekend! :)


	22. Tragedy

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 22: Tragedy_

Eyes drearily opened. As the world came into focus, they caught the sight of canvas above them. Then, the owner of those eyes felt the cold hit every inch of her skin. It was freezing. Hermione yawned and stretched her body, trying not to hit Ron or wake him. She snuggled closer to him in an effort to heat herself up, but it didn't help much.

Hermione sighed in exasperation and lifted the covers, shivering as she lost the insulation of her blanket. After leaning down and pulling her socks up higher, she padded over to her bag to retrieve a few tea leaves, then she got out some water that Harry had collected and began to heat it up with her wand.

Once the water had boiled and the tea was ready she poured them into two cups she had managed to make from magic a few days earlier. She then carefully walked over to the entrance flap and, with her head, nudged it to the side slightly.

Harry jumped at the unexpected movement behind him and the blanket which had been wrapped around his shoulders fell to the ground. Hermione realised it was slowly beginning to be covered by white puffs. Hermione glanced up at the sky and saw that the grey clouds were giving them snow.

"I made tea," Hermione said to Harry, holding out a cup as if to prove it.

Harry smiled. "Thanks," he replied and took the cup from her hands. He sighed as he swallowed the hot liquid, then placed it on the ground. He put his arms behind him and hoisted the blanket up onto his shoulders. "You can get under if you want," Harry offered, gesturing with his head for her to join him.

Hermione accepted the offer and crept under the blanket. It was a nice comfort. "Where did you get this from?" Hermione asked. "Ron and I were using the two blankets and you were using the sleeping bag."

"When Ron woke me up to take my watch he suggested we switch so that it'd keep me warm. It's not easy to jump up if anything happens if you're in a sleeping bag."

Hermione smiled at Ron's thoughtfulness. "I should've realised he'd do something like that."

"Yeah," Harry simply said.

Hermione sighed, feeling at peace. Though her fingers, wrapped tightly around her tea cup, were slowly turning red, on the inside, she was pleasantly warm.

"We need to get some more mushrooms." Harry announced.

Hermione nodded. "All right, I'll go out today and find some."

Harry nodded, then yawned.

"Harry, if you want, you can go back and sleep. I'm feeling quite alert."

"Why don't we both go inside?" Harry suggested. "Now that we're both up and it's daytime, we don't really need to stand guard. We'll just keep an ear out for trouble."

"All right," Hermione said and they got up with their now empty tea cups and went inside.

They entertained themselves with a game of chess as they waited for Ron to wake up. As soon as Ron woke up, they told him their plans for the day and Ron announced he'd go with Hermione.

"We'll go after you finish your match," Ron said to them.

Harry and Hermione nodded. Harry was about to checkmate her anyway.

"And when we get back, I'll verse whoever wins."

Hermione laughed at the horrified expression on Harry's face.

"Save it, Potter, with the way you've set up the pieces, you're going to beat Hermione no matter what. Hermione may have had a chance to win if she hadn't fallen for it. Now there's no way she's going to get out of this mess. Honestly, Hermione, I thought I taught you better than that."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, who merely stuck out his tongue at her.

"Come on, guys, save your bizarre form of flirting for when you leave. I don't need to see it." Harry plopped his knight down onto a square. "Checkmate."

"Great," Ron said, grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her up. "Set up the board so that when we get back you and I can start the game straight away."

Harry groaned and gave a reluctant wave.

"Have fun!" Hermione called back, smiling.

They walked quickly. This was mainly due to Ron's pace, which was faster than usual. Hermione struggled to keep up with him.

"Come on, Hermione, lift your knees up!" Ron joked.

"Oh, God," Hermione panted. "Sometimes I hate your bloody long legs."

Ron paused and turned to look at her, an incredulous smile on his face. "Did you just say 'bloody?'"

Hermione knew there was no way out of it. "I suppose you're rubbing off on me."

Ron grinned and put an arm around her. "In more ways than one, hm?" Hermione gave him a playful slap around the shoulder, but that did nothing to deter his merciless teasing. "Hermione Granger swo-ore!"

"Ron, keep it down!"Hermione exclaimed, though quietly. "There could be tributes around here."

Ron immediately turned sombre. "Right, blimey, I completely forgot," he said, practically in a whisper.

There was a rustle in a bush a few metres in front of them and they nearly jumped out of their skins. Ron quickly grabbed Hermione and pulled her over to a nearby tree, hiding them both behind it.

Hermione's startled heart was beating so loudly she had a feeling Ron could probably hear it. Ron stood in front of her, keeping her in between him and the tree so that if anything did come out it would literally have to go through him to get to her. He was facing her, but not looking at her – instead, his eyes were planted firmly on the bush that had rustled moments earlier.

Hermione swallowed and lowered her eyes to the ground, feeling nervous. "Is there anything there?" she asked in a low voice.

"Not sure," Ron breathed. "Let's just stay here for few more minutes, just in case..."

Hermione nodded, eyes firmly on the ground.

Then, suddenly, a flash of orange entered her vision. She gasped and Ron immediately looked down to see what she'd gasped at.

He looked just in time to see the orange snake coil around his left leg and bite it.

"RON!" Hermione screamed, pushing against his chest to get him away from the snake. The snake jumped off and slithered back into the bushes. Hermione saw Ron's eyes close in pain and he stumbled, struggling to stay upright. Hermione quickly put an arm around his waist. "Ron, put your arm around me, hurry!" Ron groaned and lifted his left arm, placing it around her shoulders. "Come on, we've got to get back to the tent."

Ron groaned again. Hermione scrunched up her face, struggling to keep him up. Ron tried to help her by hopping but all he was doing was dragging his foot. "Come on, Ron, you can do it!" Hermione said, pulling him along.

She didn't know why she was taking him to the tent – there wasn't much point. They didn't have any good medication against snake venom. Hermione reasoned that it would be best to get him out of the open, where they were extremely vulnerable. Also, ever-cool Harry would probably calm her down and perhaps know what to do. He probably came across snakes back in District 7.

"Harry," Hermione breathed. "Come on, Ron, we've got to get to Harry."

"Wassa..." Ron started to say, then groaned. "Wassa snake doin' 'ere anyway?"

Hermione tried to stay calm, but her answer came out in a shrill, high-pitched and panicky voice. "I don't know! I don't know!"

"Is'snowing, snakes don't come out when is'snowing."

"I don't know, Ron, I don't know!"

"'s'alright Hermione," Ron said, and Hermione cast a glance at him. "I'll be alright."

Hermione nodded, trying to keep the tears in. "Right, of course you will! Come on, now, let's keep going. We have to... we have to keep going!"

They were taking too long, though. Ron was too heavy for her and she was having difficulty keeping herself upright, let alone Ron, too. If only there was a way to fly him over to the tent...

"OF COURSE!"Hermione exclaimed, straightening up with renewed enthusiasm so quickly Ron nearly tipped over. "Oh, God, Ron, sorry!" She began to move him over to a nearby tree. "Okay, Ron, just move over here, I have an idea."

"'course you do..."Ron mumbled, a small smile on his extremely pale face.

Hermione placed him against the tree and he struggled to keep himself up once she let go of him. "I'm sorry, Ron, but I have to get my wand out."

Ron managed to breathe out an "okay."

Quickly waving her wand in a swish and flick motion, she cried out "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" and watched as Ron floated up into the air, hovering slightly above ground.

"Okay, okay," Hermione said as she began to walk swiftly, pulling Ron along with her. She knew that if she went too quickly, the wand would no longer point at Ron and he'd fall onto the ground and injure himself further. She had to be swift but careful. Already, they were covering much more ground than earlier on.

And then the bushes that lead to their tent appeared, and she cried out "HARRY!" even though she knew how dangerous that was, how it could alert any nearby tributes to where they were.

Harry immediately appeared. His eyes grew wide behind his glasses but he asked no questions. He quickly pulled aside the bushes and let Hermione and Ron come through.

"What—" Harry began as he ran past them, towards the tent and its entrance flap.

"Snake," Hermione breathed out, pulling Ron into the tent as she went through. Harry held onto Ron to make sure he didn't fall.

Hermione dropped the levitating charm and helped Harry settle Ron down against the bed. "He needs to be sitting up so that his heart is higher than the bite," Harry said. "His leg was bitten, right?"

Hermione nodded and got out her backpack, searching for something they might be able to use. She still had a bandage she could wrap around the bite, but she wanted to get the venom out first. If there was any antivenom...

"Eugh..." Ron moaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Hermione," Harry said warningly, as if insisting she get a move on.

"I'm trying, Harry! I'm trying!" she exclaimed. "I can't find anything, there's nothing! There's nothing!" Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, clouding her vision and she hastily wiped them away so that she could focus.

"There aren't any spells you can—"

"No!" Hermione cried. "No, there aren't! I can't think of any!"

Harry looked pained, almost as if he were about to explode.

"Attention tributes," a voice began, booming around them as if they were speaking from above. The three of them stopped their panicking and immediately quieted, looking up at the roof of the canvas intently. "We will be scheduling an impromptu feast for you all, where, should you attend, you will be presented with an item you desperately need." Hermione's eyes widened as she tilted her head down to look at Ron's bitten leg. "You have one hour to come and meet us in the Cornucopia."

Hermione and Harry immediately looked at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

"I can go," Harry finally said.

"No," Ron weakly replied.

"Harry, no!"Hermione exclaimed. "It's too dangerous!"

"Ron's about to die, Hermione!" Harry yelled at her.

"There's another way!" Hermione said to him.

"What is it?" Harry demanded.

"Sponsors!" she cried. "We can use the sponsors! They'll help us!"

"Sponsors?!" Harry repeated, looking outraged at the very mention of them. "I'm not going to sit around and wait for sponsors to _maybe_ help us!" He stood up and began to march out of the tent.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed and she murmured a quick "I'll be right back," to Ron before getting up too and chasing after Harry. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to save Ron!" Harry said, turning around to look at her.

"No, Harry!"Hermione cried. "You can't go out there! You'll get killed!"

"Hermione, Ron's going to die if I don't do this!"

"The sponsors will help us!" Hermione insisted. "They will!"

"What proof do you have of that, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Have they been awfully helpful before this? Hm?"

Hermione couldn't answer that without admitting Harry had a point. But just because they hadn't helped them before didn't mean they wouldn't help now.

"I'm sure that you think everyone's as kind-hearted as you are, Hermione, but let me clue you in on the fact that not everyone is as concerned about the welfare of others as you are!"

"They can still help us!" Hermione said. "By the time you get to the Cornucopia Ron might already be... we don't have time to go into the Cornucopia, so there's no use!"

"'No use?'" Harry repeated.

"Callum died within a few minutes of being bitten by that snake! I think the only reason Ron has lasted this long is due to the fact that he's older and stronger. I don't know how much more time he has but I know that by the time you get back here, the antivenom, which I'm sure is what they're offering to us, will be of no use!"

"We have to at least try!" Harry shouted. "I'm not going to sit and wait for a miracle while Ron gets worse!" He frowned at her. "Honestly, I thought you of all people would want me to go help him."

Hermione felt like she had been slapped in the face. "How dare you?" she asked witheringly. "How _dare_ you accuse me of not wanting to help him?"

Harry looked like he knew he'd taken it too far. "I didn't—"

"If anyone wants to help him, Harry, I do, and I will _not _let you stand there and think that I don't care about him!" she said. "Go, go to your stupid Cornucopia. See if I care. I'm going to help Ron."

It seemed as though Harry wanted to say something but thought there was not enough time and instead turned on his heel and ran into the forest.

Hermione turned on her heel and marched back into the tent. Ron looked like a ghost.

"Oh, oh, Ron!" she said, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh, God!"

"'m 'right," Ron murmured, his eyes closed. "Don' worry bou me."

Hermione let out a small sob. "Ron," she whispered, kneeling next to him, eyeing the dreaded scene.

"So 'arry left, di'e?" Ron asked.

Hermione bit her lip for a moment. "Yes," she answered.

"Git," Ron whispered. "'sposed to respec' a dying man's wishes."

"You are not going to die!" Hermione exclaimed. "I won't let you!"

Ron merely grinned at that. "Trust you to be bossy even at my deathbed," he said.

Hermione was now letting the tears fall freely down her dirty face. "Oh, God, Ron..." she whispered.

Suddenly her attention was drawn away from Ron. She peered at the entrance flap, which had suddenly opened slightly. Into the tent flew a small parachute.

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione breathed, a smile forming on her face as she realised what it was.

"What?" Ron murmured, for his eyes were still closed.

"Ron," she began quietly. "It's a sponsor."

"Wha'?" Ron asked, opening his eyelids slightly.

Hermione let out a small, relieved laugh. "It's a sponsor!" she exclaimed.

Hermione felt like it was falling in slow motion. She was immobile as she watched the parachute slowly descend towards them.

It landed with what, to Hermione, sounded like a boom. Transfixed, she picked it up and opened the little container attached to the parachute and saw what was inside. Taking out the little tube of antivenom, she realised it wasn't a drink that Ron was supposed to take, but some Capitol-created ointment that would take out the venom.

She dabbed a little onto her finger and gently lowered her hand onto Ron's pale, freckled left leg. Ron's scrunched up face relaxed slightly at the cool touch.

"Oh, bloody hell," he moaned.

"How do you feel?" she asked him.

"So... much... better..." he said, opening his eyes fully, revealing his blue iris' to the world again.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Ron, crying into his shoulder. "Oh, oh, God, thank you!" she blubbered to whoever was listening.

"I'm alright," Ron said clearly, chuckling slightly. His voice was back to normal. "I'm okay."

"Oh, my God," Hermione said, her rapid heartbeat slowing down. "Don't you ever scare me like that again."

"I'll try not to."

"Don't just try!" Hermione said pulling back from him.

"All right, I won't ever scare you like that again," Ron declared, and Hermione leaned down to give him a brief but deep kiss.

"Blimey, I should nearly die more often," Ron said, grinning at her.

"That's not funny," Hermione told him. "I have to go find Harry. He can't have gone too far in this amount of time."

She got up and walked over to the entrance, feeling on top of the world, as if nothing was going to bring her down. Before walking through the tent, she cast one more look at Ron. "Stay in that spot. Don't try to get up or lie down."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, all right," he said to her. "Now hurry up before the git gets into another mess."

Hermione smiled at him, feeling so incredibly happy and thankful, and then raced off to find Harry. She had a rough idea of how to get to the Cornucopia and she knew that she should find him somewhere along the way.

"Harry!" she called out as she ran, though not extremely loudly, just in case anyone was nearby.

Eventually she reached the clearing that she was pretty confident was the one in which she'd rested in on her first day in the Hunger Games. She pulled aside a few branches from a bush and stepped into it.

And screamed.

On the snowy ground, glistening in the day's sunlight, was Harry's dead body.


	23. Life and Death

_This weekend I finally saw Perks of Being a Wallflower. If you haven't seen it yet - drop everything, close this page, forget about this story and RUN to the cinemas. Go, go, go! It's amazing._

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 23: Life and Death_

It felt as if the world had stopped completely. Her heart failed. Her mind shut down. Everything was frozen.

Then, a moment later, everything was spinning again, going faster and faster than before, and the world, this time, was spinning too fast... much too fast...

Hermione gasped at the dizzying sensation and fell to the ground, shaking her head to try and stop all this, because it wasn't possible, Harry couldn't be dead...

"Oh, my God!" Hermione exclaimed and felt the tears stinging behind her eyelids. She let them out, sobbing and shaking. "Harry..." she managed to stutter out. "_Harry_!"

But Harry did not wake.

In the back of her mind, Hermione knew that she needed to get out, but her body wasn't realising it. All her body was telling her to do was stay there, because it was incapable of moving at all.

_Get out, Hermione!_

Shakily, Hermione got up, eyes not leaving Harry's body. His face was a ghastly white, blending in with the snow. The scene was horrifying, yet she couldn't look away.

The hovercraft would be arriving soon. She needed to leave. She couldn't be there when it happened.

Slowly, as if they were made of lead, her legs began to move her backwards. Eventually, she turned her back to the sight of Harry's body and pushed aside bushes so that she could leave the clearing. She moved as a zombie, unable to comprehend anything, a feeling that felt foreign to her.

_You've got to go back to the tent_, her mind was telling her. _You've got to go back and tell Ron_.

Hermione's eyes widened, she gasped and her heart let out an odd and sudden thud against her chest.

Ron.

How was she going to tell him? _What_ was she going to tell him?

How do you tell someone their best friend is dead?

While she'd been best friends with both Harry and Ron, a member of the trio, Harry and Ron shared something she'd never be a part of. They were brothers. They were always meant to be friends. They were always there for each other and connected in such a special way that Hermione would never understand.

How would Ron react when she told him?

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. Once she'd composed herself, she continued walking back to the tent, hoping that the walk would calm her further.

She blanched at the sight of the tent, feeling sick at the thought of what she was going to do to him, what was going to happen when she broke his heart.

Gently, she reached out for the entrance flap and pulled it back slightly. Ron was sitting in the position she'd left him in, looking bored out of his mind. At the sound of the entrance flap opening Ron glanced up. A smile immediately spread across his face.

"Hey," he greeted her. "Look, I listened to you," he gestured to the way he was sitting. "I didn't move." Hermione managed to crack a small smile, and he grinned at her. "Can you believe a levitating charm did mean the difference between life and death for me?" Ron snorted. "You were right, as always."

Hermione let out a small sob which Ron assumed was a laugh. Ron peered behind her.

"Where's Harry, Hermione?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to stop the tears from forming in her eyes.

At last, Ron seemed to gather something was wrong. "Hermione?" he asked worriedly. "Wh-where's Harry?"

Hermione's chin quivered and she shakily bent down next to him. Staring deep into his blue eyes, she took a deep breath. "Ron... Harry's... Harry's gone."

Ron didn't react. He simply watched Hermione as if she were joking. "'Gone?'" he repeated. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"Ron, he's dead."

Ron's eyes widened slightly, giving Hermione the perfect view of his very soul. Something inside him had sunk very deep into the bottom of his stomach. Perhaps it was his heart. "What do you mean he's dead?"

Hermione took another deep breath. "I went out to find him... and he was... he was lying on the ground, flat on his back, in a clearing... I don't know how it happened, but he wasn't moving... or breathing... Ron, he was dead."

Ron shook his head dumbly. "No... no, he's not dead, he can't be..."

"Ron, he is."

"No, there... there wasn't a cannon... there was no cannon, it can't—"

"There was."

"When?" Ron asked in a moan, as if she wasn't supposed to come up with an argument to that.

"When... when the sponsor parachute fell down onto the ground. At that moment, I heard a boom –didn't you?"

Ron glanced at the small parachute lying innocently on the ground a foot away from him. Hermione followed his gaze. "But... but I thought that was... that was just me, and it sounded loud in my head because it was just so important and monumental that it... you know, landed with a bang? Or that sponsors, you know, anything they send just sounds loud when it lands... it can't have been—"

"It was, Ron," Hermione said tearfully.

"No!" Ron said, sitting up completely. "He's not dead!"

"Ron, I saw him!" she insisted.

"It was someone else, then!" Ron shouted, his red face scrunched up in anger and determination.

"Ron, it was Harry!" Hermione cried, tears streaming down her face as she watched Ron slowly come to terms with the fact that his best friend was dead.

"No!" Ron yelled, standing up as if that would prove his point. "No, it wasn't him! It can't have been him! It wasn't him!" At that moment, Hermione realised his face was scrunched up to stop the tears from falling. His voice was breaking. "It... it wasn't... he's... he's not…"

Then he fell back down next to Hermione and clutched her to him tightly, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Hermione's tears joined his as she hugged him back tightly.

"Ron," she called out and his grip on her only increased, as if he were worried she'd disappear, too. "I'm not going anywhere, Ron, I promise." But she gripped him tighter, too, because she was worried about the same thing.

Together they stayed like that for the rest of the day, mourning the loss of their best friend, Harry Potter.

oOo

The covers swished in the air as Ron swept them over. Hermione silently slipped onto the mattress, watching from the corner of her eye as Ron did the same thing. He then let the blanket fall back down onto them and Hermione felt its heaviness sink down all around her. The blanket was suffocating her, she couldn't breathe...

"RON!" she screamed, casting the blanket aside and shooting up in their bed. Ron was immediately at her side, concern etched in his face. Then, his arms were around her once more as she cried into his shoulder.

"I know, I know," he said softly to her.

"It's not fair..." she murmured as he ran a hand through her unmanageable locks.

"None of this is fair, you know that."

Hermione cried a little longer before whispering, "He and I fought..."

She felt Ron tense up. "About what?"

"Whether he should go to the Cornucopia or not," Hermione replied, the tears still falling down her face.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I told him it was too dangerous and he accused me of not caring about you and I said some nasty things back and..." Hermione sniffed softly, "I don't remember what I last said to him, but I remember it wasn't nice. Ron, he must've thought I hated him!"

"He knows you don't, Hermione," Ron said reassuringly, then cleared his throat and, in a quieter voice, said, "He... he knew you didn't, Hermione."

Hermione shut her eyes tightly to stop any more tears from falling. She was sick of crying. "What if that was his last thought? That I hated him?"

"Hermione, if anything, that argument showed him how much you love him," Ron pointed out. "He would've known that you were just worried about him."

"That's not how Harry would've seen it, though," Hermione said. "He must have thought I was holding him back..."

"Nah," Ron said, then paused. "Well, maybe he did, but underneath that, he knew you were doing it out of love."

Hermione nodded into Ron's chest. "Thank you, Ron," she whispered.

"Anytime, Hermione," Ron said back to her and when she pulled away she saw his reassuring smile looking down on her. His eyes were shining too – he had been crying with her.

"I'll be able to sleep now," Hermione said, though she wasn't sure if she was right.

"Okay," Ron said and settled back down, resting his head on the pillow. Hermione joined him and tried to relax again. "Hermione?" he asked as they lay in the darkness.

"Yes?"

"Would we be able to go to the waterfall tomorrow?" Ron asked. "I just... I don't want to stay here tomorrow. I want to go do something."

Hermione knew why he wanted to go there. He needed a place full of happy memories, and the waterfall was certainly a great one. He couldn't stay here any longer, for it reminded him of Harry's death. Hermione felt that going to the waterfall might help her, too, which was why she nodded her head and said, "Okay," before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

oOo

They walked hand in hand silently but swiftly and painfully alert of their surroundings. They promptly arrived at the waterfall. Ron hadn't forgotten how to get there. Often, when he'd be in charge of retrieving water, he'd go there, because waterfall water was fresh, clean and the best kind to drink.

Hermione's lips curved slightly, forming the ghost of a smile that hadn't been used in what felt like a very long time.

"It's still beautiful," she murmured softly.

"Yeah," Ron sighed and gripped her hand tighter.

They stood in that same place for a long time, watching as the rushing water crashed into rocks sticking out from the cliff before sprinkling over the small lake, and listening to its ever-consistent roar. Hermione breathed in the lovely air, wondering how the world could go on around her and Ron when, to them, everything had stopped.

Then it resumed in a sudden and violent manner when a knife shot past, merely centimetres from her.

Ron cursed loudly and pushed her down, whipping out his wand and stepping forward in front of her, beginning to fire hexes at the attacker. Hermione, realising what was happening, jumped up and took her place beside Ron, firing a stunning charm at a person hiding behind a willow tree. She saw dark red hair flying behind the person and knew it was fourteen year old Perch.

Hermione fired a jinx towards the tree though she knew it was useless. Then, she noticed Perch stick her head out slightly and glance to her left, Hermione's right. Hermione whirled around saw Draco Malfoy standing in the entrance to the clearing, wand aimed right at them. Shouting '_Protego!_' Hermione shielded her and Ron from Draco's hex.

"Ron, we're cornered," Hermione cried, "and my shield charm won't last for long!"

Ron cursed again and yelled out a severing charm before replying. "We'll just have to fight them off."

"_Conjunctivitis_!" Hermione said, pointing her wand at Draco. Proving herself worthy of a ten, Hermione's spell hit him straight on and Draco fell, clutching his face.

But Perch was smart, Hermione realised, and cast a simple _Finite Incantatem_, which easily overpowered Hermione's weak spell. Hermione would need to cast more powerful spells than that. Draco regained composure and shot a stunning charm at them. Ron and Hermione ducked down hastily and the spell missed them by inches.

"Lake?" Ron asked and Hermione felt that was the best option, so she quickly nodded and began crawling after him, casting curses and hexes at Draco and Perch as she did and narrowly avoiding their shots. Gaining some distance would help them, and whilst they were swimming Hermione might be able to think of a plan.

Her hands came in contact with the cool water and she gasped. The water was close to freezing.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron exclaimed, turning back to her. "You can—_stupefy_!"

Hermione shouted _"__petrificus totalus,"_ pointing her wand at Draco Malfoy behind her. She crawled further until the water was up to her hips.

"Come on," Ron repeated encouragingly, already in the water, his whole body submerged and only his head sticking out from the surface.

Hermione took a deep breath and stuck her head down into the water, her body following. It felt like thousands of sharp knives were stabbing every inch of her and Hermione wanted to scream. She couldn't think. Her arms and legs were flailing about in a useless attempt to shake off the pain. Then, amidst the chaos Ron's hand found hers and began guiding her towards the rocks and she felt calm.

_Think, Hermione, what are you going to do?_

Ron stopped swimming and Hermione realised it was because they'd reached the rocks next to the waterfall. Hermione lifted her head up and burst through the surface of the lake, gasping for air. Ron was doing the same thing. Hermione turned around to glance back at Perch and Draco and saw they were at the edge of the lake. Perch was in the water, trying to get accustomed to it, whilst Draco was firing spells, one of which was flying towards Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked and slammed his head down back into the water. The spell flew right through the place where Ron's head was only moments before.

Ron shot back up through the water and glanced down at her. "Thanks," he panted. He cast a look at Perch Diamond and quickly pushed himself up onto the rocks, eyes not leaving her.

Hermione turned back to look at them and cast a spell back at them. Draco managed to dodge it just in time but did seem a little startled. Perch was still gasping at the cold.

"Okay, now," Ron said, grabbing her nearly blue hand and hoisting her up onto the rocks. Hermione shivered and felt her teeth clatter painfully.

"It's all right," Ron said reassuringly, rubbing her hand between his in an effort to warm it up. "We'll just take care of these two and we'll... and we'll be all right."

A hex was flying straight towards them and Hermione pulled Ron over to her. They rested their backs against the tall cliff, the one the waterfall was rolling down from.

"Distract them while I cast a drying charm," Hermione shouted at him over the deafening roar of the waterfall.

Ron nodded and shouted _stupefy_, letting the stunning charm soar across the water towards their two enemies. Meanwhile, Hermione put her wand back into her right hand and cast a quick drying charm on herself and Ron.

As soon as she'd finished, she saw that Perch was swimming over to them and Draco was following her. Hermione panicked and cast a quick _Locomotor Mortis_, which hit Draco and stopped him in his tracks.

"Good shot!" Ron exclaimed and cast a disarming charm at Perch, which unfortunately missed.

"She's getting closer!" Hermione cried as Perch ignored a struggling Draco, who could potentially drown if she didn't help him, and continued swimming over towards them.

"Let's climb up to the top of that cliff, get some more distance!" Ron shouted, grabbing Hermione's hand and tugging her towards the cliff behind them. Hermione followed, putting her wand in her pocket as she did so. Ron dropped her hand and glanced down at her. "Ready?"

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, let's go." She placed her hand against the cool rock and gripped onto it tightly, then pulled herself up. Ron was already ahead of her and she could hear him panting as he climbed.

A cannon was fired and she gasped, stumbling slightly but managing to keep her grip on the rock. She breathed heavily, trying to recover from the shock and then looked down at the scene below her.

Perch had finished her swim through the lake and was pulling herself up onto the small cluster of rocks next to the waterfall.

"Ron!" she called out to him.

Ron glanced down at her, a concerned frown on his face. "What?" he asked.

"It's Draco!" she announced. "Draco's dead!"

Ron nodded. "Keep going, Hermione!"

Hermione nodded to herself and pushed herself up further. She placed her foot where her hand had previously been-

And there was no where to place it.

The bit of rock that had been sticking out previously buckled under her weight and she lost her balance. "Ron!" she shrieked.

Ron's eyes widened and he cursed loudly, quickly extending his hand out to her and letting her grasp onto it. "Bloody hell, Hermione. Are you all right?"

Ron was her lifeline at that moment. If he let go, she would plummet to her death. "Yes," she gasped. "Don't let go."

"Never," Ron said through clenched teeth, trying to pull her up to where he was. "Come on, try to find a spot to rest your feet."

Hermione's breath went in and out short and shallow as she tried to find a spot.

"Hermione?" Ron added and Hermione glanced up at him nervously. "I don't want to rush you, but Perch is catching up to us—"

"Okay, okay," she cried in a high-pitched panicky tone. "Okay... I..."

"It's okay, Hermione," Ron said, trying to put on an optimistic smile, but struggling, his grip on her hand slackening slightly.

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on what she could feel under her feet. Nothing... nothing..."I've got it!"

Ron let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Hermione shakily let go of his hand and gripped onto the rock.

"Climb up to the top so you can take care of Perch," Hermione instructed, her feet on something solid and her head level. "I'll join you in a moment."

Ron looked a little uncertain about leaving her, but nodded and continued climbing up. Hermione gave herself a small moment to look down to see where Perch was. Though Perch, having been raised in a fishing district, had made up some ground when swimming in the lake, she was not a particularly skilled climber.

Hermione continued her ascent, eyes now fixed firmly on the rocks. She saw a few flashes of light fly past her and knew Ron was trying to fight Perch when she was most vulnerable.

She realised she'd reached the top when Ron's extended hand entered her vision. "Come on," he murmured. "I wanted to shoot a few more spells at her, but she's smart. Made sure she was directly underneath you the entire time. Knew I wouldn't do anything that might hurt you."

Hermione let him pull her up and she gasped when she realised how high they were. "Oh, god," she said, putting her hand against her chest. She felt awfully dizzy.

"Hey," Ron said, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. "You did it. Well done." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Come on, we'll be back down on the ground soon."

Hermione swallowed nervously. As reassuringly as Ron said it, the cliff was very steep. She had no idea how they'd get down. It was a miracle they'd managed to get up in the first place. "Perch is coming, we've got to hurry."

"Well, now that we're up, we should be able to throw a few spells down at her," Ron said. "Come on."

They took a few steps forward towards the edge of the cliff and peered down. Hermione let out a small scream as she realised just how close Perch was to them.

Hermione raised her wand to come up with a spell, any that would stop her in her tracks, but before she, or Ron, could say anything, Perch let out a cry of her own.

Hermione realised Perch had lost her balance just like she had minutes earlier and her feet were dangling in the air. Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and tugged on it slightly. "Is she...?" began Ron, but didn't continue.

Hermione knew how frightening it was to feel like that, to have no solid ground underneath, to have nothing to support you. She'd been scared enough with Ron holding onto her with an iron-like grip, promising that he'd never let go. But Perch had no one, nothing, and she was only a fourteen year old girl.

Hermione kneeled down at the edge of the cliff and leaned forward, extending her hand to her.

"Hermione!" Ron cried.

"Come on," Hermione said to the young girl, who was looking up at her with frightened eyes. "One hand will let go of the rocks, and very quickly, you pull yourself up and grab onto my hand. You can do it."

Perch looked tempted by that offer, her eyes shining.

"Come on," repeated Hermione.

Then suddenly the frightened look in Perch's eyes was gone, replaced by coldness again. "No!" she snapped at Hermione. "Why should I trust you?"

But before Hermione could answer, the rocks Perch had been clinging onto gave way, and Perch was falling down... down... down to the ground.

A cannon was fired the second Perch hit the ground and her scream was silenced.

Hermione gasped, her heart thudding wildly. She slowly looked up at Ron. He was looking back down at her, horrified at what he'd just witnessed. Hermione swallowed thickly, realising that that could have very well been her death.

Then, both her and Ron's eyes widened as they simultaneously realised the same thing.

They were the only people left.


	24. The Cruel Irony

Hermione breathed in and out heavily for a few moments, eyes not leaving Ron's. Ron, too, seemed to be mirroring her actions.

"We..." he began breathlessly, then turned away from her, looking down onto the faraway ground. Shaking his head to gain some sense of the situation, he glanced back at her. "We've got to get down, back to the tent."

"How?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno." It seemed he did not want to deal with what they now had to face. Part of her wanted to approach the subject, but the larger, more dominant part, which had grown significantly since meeting Ron, wanted to avoid it and focus on something good.

"We could use _wingardium leviosa_ again?" Hermione suggested.

Ron nodded, swallowing. "Yeah, alright," he agreed. "I'll go down first, yeah?"

Hermione tilted her head down once in the form of a nod. "Okay, then," she said. She stood up, and as she did, realised how close she was to Ron. She found she couldn't stand the proximity, and nor could he, for they both moved back slightly as she straightened up. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded again, not saying anything else. She waved her wand in a swish and flick movement and whispered "_Wingardium Leviosa_." Ron was pulled up slightly into the air, his feet hovering a few centimetres off the ground. "I'll try and go slowly, all right?" Hermione said to him.

"Yeah," Ron said and let her guide him down to the ground. As soon as Hermione saw that his feet were planted firmly on the ground, she took off the charm and waited for it to be put on her. Within a few seconds, she was also being pulled down, very slowly and ever-so-gently to the ground too.

Hermione let out a relieved sigh once her feet touched the solid ground. She glanced at Ron, who meekly gestured with his head that they better swim through the lake. Hermione gently kneeled down and slowly slid into the cold water that Draco Malfoy had frozen in, unable to move anywhere because of the jelly leg curse Hermione cast on him.

"We need to move swiftly," Hermione said, and Ron nodded again. They swam quickly and as soon as they got out of the water, lips blue and teeth chattering, Hermione cast a quick drying charm on them.

They hastily made their way back to the tent, walking with large steps and in absolute silence. No comment was made about Hermione's supposedly slow pace and no hands were held. In fact, Ron and Hermione didn't touch each other at all. Hermione hated it.

Hermione felt a bit of relief at the sight of the tent. Ron let her take a step into the clearing first before going in after her and letting the bushes fall back into place, hiding them from the rest of the arena. Hermione walked towards the entrance flap and pulled it aside, her eyes gliding over the bed beckoning her towards it.

"I'll make us some tea," she said to Ron and he nodded. It seemed to be the only thing he was capable of doing.

"I'll—" he cleared his throat before starting again. "I'll take the watch. You get some sleep."

Hermione bit her lip. "All right, thank you," she said in a hollow voice. Whilst it wasn't night time yet, not even close, she was still exhausted. "Hold on," she began suddenly and Ron turned to look at her. "We don't need to watch. There's no one out there to keep a watch out _for_."

Ron's eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, you're right," he said in an almost empty voice, as though he didn't seem too pleased by that thought. Hermione's suspicious about him not wanting to be near her were only confirmed when he said, "I'll just go get some fresh air then."

Hermione passed him the ready cup of tea and he gratefully took it. Their hands brushed lightly and he quickly jerked away, spilling a bit of tea on himself. He swore and walked out from the tent, hastily assuring her he didn't need her to tend to any burns he may have gotten.

Hermione wanted to cry, but refused to give in to that sensation. Instead, she opted to sip her tea, focus on the soothing, warming sensation it gave her, and then she went into her and Ron's bed and snuggled under the covers.

She tossed and turned for several minutes, sleep evading her. She huffed and sighed, continuously switching positions. Eventually, she couldn't take it any longer and decided that Ron Weasley was not going to behave like this and get away with it.

She marched out of bed, stomped to the entrance and opened the flap. Ron was slowly taking a sip of tea when she tapped him on the shoulder.

He jumped up about half a metre.

"Hermione!" He exclaimed, putting a hand to his evidently racing heart. He then cursed. "Don't ever do that again!"

"Who else would it have been, honestly, Ron?" asked Hermione.

Ron shrugged and turned his back to her and the tent, looking out into the forest. "Sorry," he simply said.

"Don't be," Hermione replied, taking a seat beside him. "What were you thinking about?"

Ron shrugged again, pressing his lips together and looking straight ahead.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron!" Hermione cried out in exasperation. "Would you at least _look_ at me?"

Ron sighed, bowed his head down slightly, casting a look at the cold ground. Before Hermione could say anything else, he turned his head back up and looked at her straight on. Hermione gave him a soft smile and he let out another sigh. "Hermione..."

"Yes?" she asked.

The left side of Ron's lips curved up ever so slightly and he let out a small, bittersweet 'hm.' "Nothing, I just..." he looked away from her for just a moment to regain some composure and she looked at him worriedly.

"Ron?" she inquired.

Ron placed the cup on the other side of him and immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. Hermione closed eyes and held onto the feeling of safety, security and warmth that only he could give her.

"I never wanted... this..." he mumbled.

Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about. "It's so unfair," she said softly.

Ron breathed in sharply and burrowed his face in her neck. She could feel his warm breath against the small amount of exposed skin there and she could feel the vibrations of his chuckle as her bushy hair tickled him.

Truthfully, Hermione wanted to stay like that forever, huddled next to Ron in the snow. However, she was Hermione Granger for a reason, and, being a Granger, when there was a task in front of her, she had to tackle it head on.

"What are we going to do?" she asked shakily.

Ron sighed and pulled away from her, but kept his hands on her shoulders. "I told you, whatever happens, I'm going to get you out of this."

Hermione gasped. "But, Ron, I—"

"I'm keeping my promise, Hermione."

"No, you're not!" Hermione exclaimed, taking his arms off of her and giving them some space. "I'm not going to let you die for me, Ron!"

"One of us has to!"

"And it will not be you!"

"Well, it won't be you, that's for sure!"

Hermione let out a frustrated growl. "Ron! You're so..."

"So what?"

"Infuriating!" Hermione exclaimed and let out a laugh. "Oh, God, look at us! We're arguing about which one of us is going to die for the other?"

"We wouldn't have to if you just accept that it's going to be me," Ron said, and Hermione glared at him. Ron sighed and put a calloused hand to his forehead, hiding his tired eyes from her. "Come on, Hermione, honestly, which one of us is likely to have the best life once they're done here?"

"Why are you assuming that it's me?"

"Because you're you!" Ron spluttered out. "You're... you're amazing, and everything, and you can do anything and... and you've just got so much to do... so much you've got left to prove and..."

"And you don't? You don't have any plans for after the games?" Hermione countered.

"No, actually, because I was planning on either you or Harry winning! And well, Harry's gone, and so obviously that plan's done with, but you're still in, and—"

"Your incredible loyalty and desire to sacrifice yourself for us does not entitle you to die!"

"But it's okay for you to die, right?" Ron shot back.

"Of course it's not okay!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's not okay for this to be happening at all! It's not okay for anyone to die, but one of us is going to and based on all the facts, it really should be me!"

"Why?" Ron demanded. "I can't think of one good reason why you should die for me!"

"And yet you've just said one!" Hermione cried. "You... it'll be for you..."

"And?"

"And," Hermione began, taking a deep breath. "You've got so much to live for... so much to return home to..."

Ron's face softened slightly and he looked down at her. "And you don't?" he asked quietly.

Hermione looked away from him, unable to handle his penetrating gaze. Biting her lip for a moment, she let go and spoke. "Not as much as you."

"But... your parents..." Ron fumbled. "You told me how you miss them..."

"And can you think of anyone else?" Hermione asked, finally looking back up at him.

Ron looked around him wildly, as if an answer would be hiding amongst the trees. "Maybe... well, maybe you haven't mentioned anyone to me!"

"No! They and Mr. Bogs, my employer, are the only people I'd return to!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, I've only got—"

"You don't 'only got' anything, Ron!" Hermione cried. "You have everything! Parents, siblings, friends—"

"Well, you've got parents and friends," Ron began weakly.

"I have next to no one compared to you!" she explained. "And you, to top it all off, are loved by everyone in Panem. Do you not remember how much everyone adored you during the interviews, how charming you were—"

"But everyone liked you, too!" insisted Ron, looking more desperate than anything else. "That's not an excuse!"

"Ron, everyone wanted you to win... _I_ want you to win."

Ron looked torn and scrunched his face up, looking straight ahead at the trees in front of them. He shook his head. "I'm not letting you do this for me."

"Well, I'm not going to win these games."

"Neither am I."

"One of us has to."

"Well it's not—"

"Ron!" Hermione sighed. "Is there any way that you would even possibly kill me?"

"I can't believe you're even asking that question," Ron said angrily, looking away from her and casting a stony glare at the trees.

"Fine then," Hermione said, standing up fiercely. "I'll just have to get myself killed. Maybe the lake, it's awfully cold—"

"Hermione—"

"No, how about I refuse to eat?"

"No, bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron yelled and stood up, towering over her. "Would you listen to yourself?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This isn't like you! Bloody hell," he sighed. "You really want to die?"

"No." Hermione answered. "But I'd rather that than have you meet that fate."

"Then I'll do it," Ron said shakily.

Hermione gasped and met his gaze. His blue eyes were fearful and he looked as lost as a little boy. "You will?" she asked warily. She couldn't believe that Ron had agreed so suddenly.

"But there's only one way I'll do it."

Hermione frowned, thinking about what he'd just said. And then she realised- "Oh, no!"

"I told you Hermione, I'm not going to win this!" Ron exclaimed.

"You want to do the same thing Cormac did?" Hermione shouted at him. "You want to force yourself into a lifetime of slavery for me?"

"If we do this... you get what you want, I stay alive, but no one wins—"

"You are not going to kill me that way, Ron!" Hermione yelled.

"Then I'm not killing you at all!"

"I'm telling you, many more people would rather you alive than me!" Hermione reasoned. "It's simple logic – a philosophy of sorts!"

"Don't go trying to rationalise whose death is more 'right!'" Ron yelled at her. "I don't care what the rest of Panem thinks! I don't want you dead, so there!" He stomped his foot at that. Then he pointed at his chest. "Why can't it be _me_ that dies, huh? Why should it be me over you?"

"Because-" Hermione began, her voice strong but her resolve shaking. Then she took another deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, keeping them on Ron's. "Because I _love_ you!"

Because Hermione was so focused on Ron, she was able to see his entire face change at those words, words she couldn't believe she'd actually uttered. His previous expression, one of defiance, determination and a hint of anger, completely dissolved. His eyes softened, his frown disappearing. His lips, formerly pressed tightly to each other, parted, and his soft exhale of shock was evident in the frosty air, coming out as fog. He continued to breathe deeply, eyes firmly on her.

Hermione was the first to recover from the shock. As soon as she'd realised the words had been said, and couldn't be taken back, she realised she had to keep going. "I... I love you Ron! You're a pig, you're stubborn, and can be a bit of a git, but you're so kind, compassionate, brave and loyal, that I can't help it! I've fallen in love with you and every single strand of ginger hair on your head, every single freckle on your face." Hermione paused to glance at the freckles which stood out prominently against his pale skin. Her chin trembled slightly and tears formed in her eyes.

"And I... I can't live without you," she continued in a whisper. "I nearly lost you yesterday... and... and I was so scared... and I don't want to ever go through that again. I don't want to live without you!" she yelled at him, her anger and determination firing up inside her. "As cliché and horrible as that sounds, I can't live without you, and refuse to do so! I refuse to live with that pain, because I felt a small fraction of it yesterday, when I thought you were about to leave me, and I can't imagine what it would feel like to completely lose you and have to go on without you... and I don't want to have to." She shuddered, partly from the cold, and partly from the cruel vision she pictured in her head of herself having to live knowing that Ron was dead. "You can't do this to me. I know you don't love me, but I know you must care for me, at least a little, and you can't do this to me..." she trailed off, her voice once again shaking.

Ron's lips trembled, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to kiss them, but she couldn't until Ron recovered and finally said something. Silence settled around them, broken only by a few lone creatures calling out occasionally and a wind that blew by every now and then, whistling hauntingly. Finally, Hermione couldn't take it.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron!" she cried. "Would you please just say _something?_"

Ron numbly shook his head, then took another step closer to her, so that their faces were inches away from each other. "You're completely mental," he murmured, eyes racking over her face.

Hermione's mouth opened slightly in shock. _That_ was what Ronald Weasley said to her after her long, hard and rather _embarrassing_ declaration of love? "What?" she breathed out.

"'I know you don't love me, but I know you must care for me, at least a _little_?'" Ron repeated incredulously. "Hermione... I thought you were smart." Before Hermione could come up with a snide retort to shoot back at him, he continued. "Hermione," he breathed out, allowing a smile to finally form on his face, and Merlin, it was a big one. "I love you, too."

It seemed the smile was contagious, because Hermione found she was mirroring Ron. It seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders and everything was right in the world, because Ron Weasley was in love with her.

"Really?" she asked breathlessly, feeling like a silly, lovestruck schoolgirl, and not caring one bit.

"Yeah, I reckon so," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders slightly but managing to keep that grin. "I mean, you're a bossy know-it-all, but, you're all right, really."

Hermione sighed and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She felt Ron gripping her fiercely against him, too. Her feet parted from the snowy floor as Ron spun her around on the spot. They laughed together and everything was marvellous.

Then, Ron placed her back onto the ground and he grew more serious. "I suppose I guess I just didn't show it enough, seeing as you didn't see it."

"Ron," Hermione began, but Ron interrupted.

"No, it's all right. I reckon I should've said something to you after we got together. Remember, when Harry went off that time and you said that you couldn't believe I fancied you?" Hermione looked away and nodded, eyes on the ground. She felt Ron's fingers on her chin, pulling her up to meet his gaze again. "I should've said something then, but I just didn't... I guess it's just tough on a bloke, you know? Especially on one like me... I'm no good at this emotion stuff..."

"You're doing very well at the moment," Hermione assured him, and Ron cracked a smile.

"My point is, Hermione, is that you're... you're brilliant. You're smart, bloody hell, you're smart... but you know that already... but you're also so kind, caring, and just... just beautiful, inside and out and... you deserve to know that." Ron shrugged sheepishly. "It just makes sense that I'd fancy you. I don't see how I wouldn't."

Hermione sniffed softly and played with the hair at the back of his neck. "Thank you, Ron."

Ron gave her a small, crooked smile. "I love you," he said simply, and Hermione felt her heart practically soar inside her at those words.

"I love you, too." she said, just as simply.

Ron sighed and bent his head so that their foreheads met.

Hating the fact that she was about to do it, Hermione asked quietly "What are we going to do?" effectively dampening the mood and causing reality to come crashing down on them.

Ron pulled away and looked down at her. "I dunno," he replied truthfully. "But the fact that you love me is no longer an excuse for you to die for me. Not when I love you, too."

"So..." Hermione started, not sure of what to say.

"Yeah," Ron said, swallowing thickly and looking quite lost.

"We'll just have to wait, then?" Hermione suggested.

Ron took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "Yeah, I s'pose," he answered, though he didn't look too pleased by the idea. Hermione could see why – waiting for death seemed like such a depressing thing to do, and rather frightening, too.

"So, should we go back in—"

But Hermione's suggestion that they get back inside the warm tent was cut off by a loud cry that sounded awfully like her name. Hermione glanced up confusedly at Ron, and saw that his eyes were looking at something past her shoulder, something that had turned him awfully pale with shock.

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

"RON! HERMIONE!"

Hermione turned around and was graced with the sight of Harry Potter racing towards them.

ALTERNATIVE ENDING:

"So, should we go back in—"

"RON! HERMIONE!"

Hermione whirled around and her eyes grew to the size of saucers at the sight of Harry Potter racing towards them.


	25. Harry's Story

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 25: Harry's Story_

"Harry, can you explain to us what the bloody hell is going on?" Hermione demanded angrily as they were pushed down onto beds in the Capitol's Government House and the official headquarters for the Hunger Games.

"Hermione, don't swear!" Ron chided, grinning at her. Hermione, however, wasn't amused.

"Ron, this isn't funny and this is no time for joking around!" Hermione said as a nurse began to examine her with state of the art medical inventions.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ron said reassuringly from the bed next to her.

Hermione frowned and glare at him. "I'm whisked away from the arena in a hovercraft by our best friend - who is supposed to be _dead_ -and some gaming officials and he refuses to tell us anything about what's going on until we're settled down. Here we are, in the Government House in the City Circle of our capital, being told not to worry about anything and we're now having our bodies examined for any injuries and I have no idea what is going on, so no, Ronald Weasley, I will _not_ calm down!"

"Hermione, hold on," Harry said. "If you'll just let me, I'll explain everything to you in a moment. Let me just make sure you're okay." He turned to the nurses who were scrambling around. "How are they?"

"This one," a tall male brunette began, gesturing to Ron, "needs a bit more antivenom in him before he's in the all-clear."

"And Hermione?" Ron asked, looking over worriedly at her. "How's she?"

The young blonde with curly hair that was attending Hermione looked up from Hermione's right arm. "Apart from a few bruises here and there she's fine," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face and standing up. "A little stressed though, Harry, so you'd better explain everything to her."

"Yeah, Harry, what's happening?" Ron asked, attention on his best friend now that he knew Hermione was all right. "What happened to you? What's happened to the Hunger Games? Why were we taken out? Where's the president?"

"Well," Harry began hesitantly once the nurses and gaming officials had left, leaving them completely alone. Hermione noticed that his eyes had darkened a little in anger. "He's dead."

"'Dead?'" Hermione repeated incredulously. "President Riddle is _dead_?" Once Harry nodded his head in affirmation, she immediately asked "How?"

"I killed him."

Everything was quiet between the three friends for a moment as Ron and Hermione tried to comprehend what Harry had just said. Harry was looking at them, waiting for them to say something.

Eventually, Hermione broke the silence. "How?" she said again, quietly.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, then paused. His eyes drifted away from them and gazed at something just past their heads, as if he were mulling something over in his mind. Eventually, he glanced back at them and said, "Perhaps I'd better start from the beginning."

"Yeah, good idea," Ron said, looking a little relieved. Hermione had a feeling it was because he was more confused than ever. She was feeling exactly the same way, and she didn't like it one bit. "So what happened to you when Hermione found you? How come you're not dead?" There was an unspoken agreement between Ron and Hermione. They both knew that this was the real Harry sitting before them. All they were wondering was how he could be here, when he was supposed to be dead?

Harry merely shook his head at them. "I think I ought to start at the very beginning."

"When?" Hermione asked.

"I..." Harry began, then sighed. "I guess I better explain a couple of things before I get to how I 'died.' And I suppose... the best thing to do is to start from when I was born... maybe a little before that."

He took a deep breath, then began to explain.

"President Riddle has always been really power hungry. His grandfather was the one that led the rebellion, as you know, and he took over as president after his grandfather died, because his dad, who was supposed to be the next leader, died when he was little—"

"Harry, we know this already," Hermione interrupted, sounding a bit more annoyed than she intended.

"I need to give you the back-story, Hermione," Harry told her.

Hermione sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Sorry, Harry," she said. "I'll try not to interrupt again."

She heard Ron snort softly behind her and she turned around to glare at him.

"Anyway," Harry continued. "He really loved his position and the Hunger Games, and he always believed that nothing would stop this system and it would stay like this forever, long after he was gone... then..."

"Then?" Ron and Hermione prompted in unison.

Harry sighed and looked up at the two of them. "I found out how my parents died... why... why I ended up with my aunt and uncle."

Hermione held her breath. She had been awfully curious about it for a long time. It seemed to be quite difficult for Harry to tell them and she knew she had to be patient.

"Riddle had all these people working for him, you see... guards, servants, peacekeepers... and psychics, too."

"Seers, you mean?"Hermione clarified. "The technical term for them is seers."

"Yeah, right," Harry said dismissively, as if it didn't matter, and Hermione supposed it didn't. "Anyway, one came to him one day telling him about someone... someone that was going to ruin everything that Riddle loved. Riddle... he obviously wasn't happy, you see. He killed the seer—" Hermione gasped, "—but not before getting enough information from them to figure out it was going to be a baby born to my parents."

"You?" Hermione asked incredulously, and Harry nodded sadly.

"He decided he had to go and kill me before I could ruin everything. He came one night. My parents weren't expecting him, the president, at all, and they especially weren't expecting him to have come to kill me... but once they realised that he was taking out his wand and preparing to kill me... they snapped into action, I guess... and... and my dad was the first one Riddle killed. He died trying to protect us, distract Riddle from us and give Mum enough time to get out with me."

Hermione wanted to get up from her bed and walk over to Harry and sit next to him, comfort him, but she felt that any movement may cause Harry to stop telling them his story, and so she waited patiently for Harry to compose himself.

"Riddle immediately turned to Mum, and... and Mum tried... she tried so hard, she begged and pleaded him to spare me... to kill her instead and just leave me..." Harry quickly wiped his eyes with his hand and continued. "He didn't, though. She was killed next, for being in the way."

"Harry, mate?" Ron spoke up and Hermione turned to face him. "You don't have to tell us this."

"No, no," Harry said, shaking his head vehemently. "You need to know this." And he tightened his jaw and determinedly glanced back up at them. Hermione knew he was filled with new-found resolve.

"When he turned to me," Harry began, his voice shaking slightly, "with his wand raised and nothing in the way, he yelled out the spell and..."

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"It didn't work," Harry said simply.

"Why?" Hermione asked, a little too desperately.

Harry ignored her. "Moments before I was 'killed' – in the Hunger Games, two days ago, I mean – I heard this rustle. I was on my way to the Cornucopia, remember? After Ron got bitten by the snake?" Hermione nodded; she remembered all too well how scared she'd been. "And... I thought that the rustle was another snake, but before I could do anything, all of a sudden it was coiling around my leg, sliding up my body, towards my face, covering my eyes, and I couldn't see anything, and then, I felt it bite me, really hard, and then suddenly, I didn't feel anything... I... I completely blanked out... I don't remember anything."

"What do you remember, then?" Hermione asked. "How did you get here?"

"I'm getting to that," Harry insisted. "After awhile I began to hear voices. It was still dark, I couldn't see anything, but I heard someone. Two people, actually. They were talking."

"Somehow, I knew I shouldn't open my eyes just yet. From the sound of it, these guys were either peacekeepers or gaming officials.

"'They managed it, right?' one said, in a low, slightly nervous tone.

"'Yes, it's all been taken care of,' said the other, full of authority.

"'He's probably none too pleased about it,' the first said, voice shaking. 'Another one in Ten so soon after the one in Six?'

"'Of course he isn't. Who likes rebellions, let alone two in the space of a few weeks?' the second grumbled. 'He doesn't let on his displeasure, though. At least, not to everyone. He knows none of the gaming officials are as loyal to him as he'd like, and only obey him because they're afraid. He knows that _you're_ one of them. Only us peacekeepers are loyal to him, that's why he chooses us in particular.' Pride was evident in his voice.

"'Do you think they planned this? Six and Ten? Did they want to rebel at the same time?'

"'No, how could they have known the other had rebelled? No district knows what the others are up to.'

"'Do you think there'll be another one?' asked the first one nervously.

"'Nah, President Riddle will scare Panem into listening to us. He always does. Besides, the Hunger Games is nearly over this year. They only rebelled because they think it's unfair so many kids have to die. That little trio and the romance that sprung between Ginger and Know-it-all made their conscience kick in, so to speak. Once the games finish this year, they won't have anything to get angry over and Riddle will calm them before next year.'

"I didn't really know what was happening to me, and I really wanted to open my eyes and see what was going on, but I couldn't until they'd left. It didn't take too long. They left soon after, but I pretty much gathered that there'd been two rebellions - one in six, one in ten - and that Riddle has been using the peacekeepers to control the people, who are obviously getting restless and sick of all this.

"As soon as I'd heard the door close, I opened my eyes. I was in a white room, sort of like a hospital. I looked from side to side and... and all around me were the tributes that'd already died. I was in the room that they keep the dead bodies in before the state-wide funeral. You know, the one at the end of the games—"

Ron and Hermione nodded, listening attentively to every word Harry was saying.

"Anyway, I wasn't sure about what was going on, but I somehow died and came back alive, so to speak. All I knew was that I was definitely still here. Before I could figure out what to do, I heard footsteps. I quickly lay back down and closed my eyes. It was just... instinct, I suppose.

"There were two people again, but they were different to the first to. The first voice, I knew, was Riddle. The second sounded like an elderly man that I'd never heard before.

"'Now, Bogs,' Riddle began—"

"Bogs?!" Hermione gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Did you get to see what he looked like? Was he—"

Harry stared at her, eyes boring into hers, and she somehow knew she needed to stop. "Hermione," he said gently, "I'll... let me get to that."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Okay, I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged his shoulder. "It's okay... really, don't... don't worry about it."

But Harry's reassurance didn't help, and instead, made Hermione a little more uneasy. Before she could say anything else, Harry resumed his story.

"'Now, Bogs,' Riddle said, 'you tell me you're also a medical researcher, just like Mr. Granger—'

"'I am, President,' Bogs said, quietly but confidently. 'And I am only happy to do any task you require of me.'

"'I gathered that from when you insisted on taking his place,' Riddle said coolly. 'Now, all I need you to do is confirm to me that Mr. Potter is indeed dead.'

"'Of course, sir.' Bogs replied. I could tell that he was getting closer and closer to me. He reached down and grasped my wrist, pressing it gently. He then moved his hand to my chest, and then lifted it up slightly to my neck and felt my pulse. After a bit of prodding, where I tried my hardest to stay as still as possible, Bogs told him I was dead.

"I didn't really know what to make of it. I thought, either this guy is really stupid, or he wants to help me. And... I just figured it was the latter.

"I heard Riddle give a sigh of relief.

"'Is everything all right, sir?' Bogs asked.

"'I...' began Riddle, 'I have waited so long for this moment.'

"'You wanted Mr. Potter dead?'

"'For a very long time.' Then, Riddle proceeded to tell Bogs the story of why he wanted me dead, that's how I found out—"

"So why didn't he just kill you himself?" Ron asked confusedly. "What happened at your house when your parents died?"

"It turns out," Harry said, "that my mum... her love protected me. The fact that she'd died for me protected me from Riddle. When he tried to kill me... the spell didn't work, and sort of backfired. It didn't kill him, but it weakened him... a lot. He... he lost his magic.

"It began to come back, but really slowly. He couldn't try to kill me again until it'd fully returned. _Avada Kedavra_ is a pretty difficult spell to cast, you see. As you can imagine, every year he was getting more and more frustrated. He really wanted to be the one to kill me. He felt it was his destiny or something... that he was supposed to do it. I guess that was his pride speaking for him.

"But every year, he continued to get more and more anxious. Was I going to destroy everything he and his family had worked so hard for? Eventually, he couldn't take it and decided that having me die in the Hunger Games was good enough for him, and made sure that it was my name that was selected this year."

"But what happened, then?" Hermione asked. "Why didn't that snake kill you?"

"I found that out a little later," Harry said. "Anyway, after Riddle sighed, he said 'Well, then. Now that's been taken care of, I think I'll go request a coffin for him. The gaming officials have his measurements. Do not go anywhere. I will come back and personally escort you out.'

"Then I heard the door open and close. After a few moments, I heard urgent whispering.

"'Harry, Harry!' Bogs said, nudging me.

"'You helped me,' I said, opening my eyes and sitting up, ending up face to face with an elderly man with spectacles similar to mine. 'Why?' Then I remembered he knew your dad, Hermione, so I added, 'Do you know Hermione?'

"'Yes, yes, I have had the privilege of meeting the Granger family. But that is not what I came here to talk about—'

"'You're not meant to be here at all. Mr. Granger is—'

"'Harry, I will explain everything in just a moment, if you'll only let me. I'm afraid we do not have much time. Mr. Granger is a renowned medical researcher and was supposed to come here and announce whether you are dead or not. I needed to be here so that the Grangers wouldn't be in danger. As soon as a peacekeeper arrived in District 3, I knew it was because they needed a medical researcher. They wanted Mr. Granger, but I did not want him anywhere near these people, and so insisted they take me. Now, Harry, did you hear the conversation President Riddle and I just had?'

"'Yeah,' I answered.

"'In that conversation, I confirmed a few things I had begun to suspect based on your conversations with Hermione during the games—'

"'Sir, why am I still here?' I asked.

"'The snake that bit you was controlled creature enchanted by President Riddle. The dreams you'd been having... were they not dreams that you should leave Ronald and Hermione, that you'd survive and be better off without them?'

"I raised my eyebrows at him. That was exactly what they were.

"'I suspected, from the nature of the dreams and the fact that you couldn't remember most of them and the way you began to act after a few of them, that they were induced dreams, which are dreams that are put into the mind. In the conversation I just had with the president, I realised the screams you were emitting the first few times you dreamed were evidence that it was President Riddle who was inducing the dreams. When one has an induced dream, there is always some kind of sign as to who might be inducing it, and the screams you were shouting were screams you shouted on the night your parents died, when you were a baby. I simply needed to confirm that it was indeed him who was tampering with your mind.

"'I had a feeling that Riddle did not like how close you were to winning, and decided that was due to Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger's help, which was why he tried to convince you to leave them and the safety they provided. Unfortunately for him, it did not work, which was why he had to take matters into his own hands by creating a magical creature and making sure it killed you. It would appear to have been done as part of the games, and no one would suspect Riddle of having done it—

"'But I'm here—

"'Because of your mother and the love she had for you. That's how you survived the first time, and that's how you survived again. Your mother has given you protection from him. Our president made the mistake of choosing to go after you on his own. Had he given the task of killing you to someone else, you would have died instantly, like any normal being. But, because of your mother's ultimate sacrifice, he couldn't. At least not indefinitely, which is why you're now here.'

"'So what do I do now?' I asked. 'He'll be back in a moment, won't he?'

"'What you do now, is up to you. You can run away from here, hide somewhere in the woods for the rest of your life, or you can face him—'

"'And kill him?' I asked, knowing what he was implying.

"'That's up to you.' Bogs answered. 'But, Mr. Potter, let me tell you something. If you choose to face him, know that you will not be alone. The people of Panem have long wanted change. You, Ronald and Hermione have given them an extra push to ask for it, which is what caused the recent rebellions in District 6 and 10. If you ask for help, they will give it.'

"'And you?' I asked him. 'Where are you going? Back to District 3?'

"'No, no,' he said, a smile on his wrinkled face. 'I will be going to the place you just escaped.'

"'The arena?' I asked dumbly.

"'Oh, no,' Bogs said calmly. 'In a few moments, when President Riddle returns, he will kill me.'"

"What?" Hermione gasped again, eyes wide with horror. "Harry!"

"That's how I reacted when he said that to me!" Harry exclaimed.

"Where is he?" Hermione demanded. "Where is he?"

Harry quietened, and then swallowed nervously, unable to meet her gaze.

"He did it, didn't he?" Hermione asked quietly. "Riddle killed Mr. Bogs." Harry nodded, and Hermione heard the bed behind her squeak and then hers press down as Ron moved closer to her. He put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "What happened?" she asked. "Keep going. Tell us everything."

"Well," Harry began hesitantly, "Mr. Bogs explained how he was going to die anyway, and he's glad that he'll be dying helping his country and those he loves. He really cared about you, Hermione, and he told me so. He said he's very proud of you and that you're an extremely talented witch.

"Riddle came back in after that. I lay back down just in time. And then... Hermione, are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "I need to know."

"'I'm so glad you insisted on coming here,' Riddle said, and right away I knew Bogs was right. Riddle sounded happy... insanely happy... and I could just tell something bad was going to happen. 'You're a wise man who has seen a lot in his lifetime. You were alive when my grandfather took over, were you not?'

"'I was, sir,' Bogs answered.

"'You must have not been pleased, having to hand over your wand,' Riddle commented.

"'I believe it had to be done,' Bogs replied.

"'I've been informed that Hermione Granger used to work for you, before she was selected to participate in the Hunger Games. Is that correct?'

"'Yes, that is.'

"'And during her time at... _Bogs' Books and Related Products_, did she come into contact with any of the magical books peacekeepers found in your home a few hours ago? She seems to be rather knowledgeable for someone who should only have had access to magical books for one week.'

"'... I can assure you, Riddle, I would not have allowed Hermione to see those books. The danger that would result in that...'

"'I'm sure that you didn't think about that when you gave her those books. You only wanted to keep the legacy of magic going, did you not, Bogs?'

"'I... I—sir, Miss Granger did not—'

"'I will not kill her, Bogs, for she will perish soon in these games anyway. But you... you will perish right now.'

"Silence filled the air. Bogs said nothing, and finally Riddle couldn't take it.

"'Even if you did not give Granger those books, I cannot let you leave this building, as you know too much. Pity, really, but you would have met your end soon anyway. _Avada Kedavra_.' There was a thud as Bogs' body hit the floor."

"I wanted to stop him," Harry insisted, "but I knew I couldn't, Hermione, I—"

"It's all right, Harry," she said, clutching Ron's hand, the one that wasn't around her, tightly. She closed her eyes briefly, knowing that tears were begging to be released, but also knowing she couldn't let them go – not yet, anyway. "I understand. What happened after?"

"Riddle called some officials who carried him away, whilst I continued to play dead. I knew that I had to stop Riddle, or at least die trying. So... after I managed to decide what I was going to do, I cast a disillusionment charm on myself, carefully opened the door, peeked outside, and sneaked out."

"Bogs had given me all that I needed but it was up to me to decide what I did with it. The people of Panem wanted change, they just needed someone to initiate it. Turns out, that someone was going to be me.

"I raced through the hallways, trying to be as silent and hidden as I could be. I needed to let everyone know I was alive. I knew there was some kind of room used with a camera in it. Riddle was always in it when he had to make an interruption on air. I just had to get there and prove I was alive.

"Eventually, I found it. It had a podium and a camera, and it was empty. I switched on the camera quickly, knowing I didn't have much time before the gaming officials found out I was there. Then, I just hoped that it was being played over Panem.

"'I'm alive,' I gasped, exhausted from all that running. 'I survived, and escaped the arena. Others haven't been so lucky. I don't have much time before the guards come in and stop me, so I've got to get out and hide from them in a moment. The games need to be stopped. Riddle's regime needs to be stopped. I know you all agree with me. There is nothing right about this. Friendships have been torn apart, lives have been lost, and it needs to end. Today.

"'I'm going to fight Riddle, but I need your help. I'm sure that the guards from your districts will be called in to come and help find me, but if you distract them long enough, I might be able to get to Riddle and end it. The districts that are closer to the Capitol, come and help me fight. Those that aren't close, rebel in your homes, just like 6 and 10 did. We can stop all this, together.

"'Believe in me. I'm small and fast. I'll be able to hide from these guys. But if I don't succeed anyway, keep fighting, because this all needs to end.

"'But bet on me. Bet on us. We can do this.'

"I raced out of the room, not knowing exactly where I was going, but knowing I just had to stay on my feet and give the districts enough time to process everything and come and help, or just cause mayhem in their own districts. I wasn't sure if they were even going to do it, but this all relied on the people trusting me and listening to me."

"And did they?"Hermione asked.

Harry grinned at her. "Within an hour, during which time I'd stunned and hexed quite a few peacekeepers and loyal gaming officials, I heard chaos outside. The people had listened, and a large majority of Districts 1 and 2 were there, fighting. I had a feeling that others were on their way, because if 1 and 2, the ones most loyal to the Capitol, had snapped, it meant that the others had almost definitely done the same thing."

"But I felt that they may not be entirely sure that I was alive. They needed solid proof –anyone could make a tape of me—"

"But why would the Capitol do that and show it to Panem?" Hermione asked.

"Panem wouldn't be thinking that, though. All they'd be thinking was how could I be alive if they saw me die. They needed some proof, and I needed to get out there and give it to them.

"So I went out there. Peacekeepers were behind me, chasing after my outline, but I blended in with the crowd. It was a horrible sight outside Riddle's home. City Circle was in near-ruins. There were lots of bodies over the cobbled floor... bodies from both sides. But people were still fighting, which was good.

"Then, suddenly, Riddle came out, from the main entrance, and looked down at everybody fighting. Everyone seemed to freeze and look up at him. Then, he addressed me.

"'I see you, Potter,' he said calmly, and everyone turned their heads 'round wildly as they tried to spot me. Several people around me gasped once they saw me and moved aside. Riddle began to walk down the steps that led to his house as more and more people moved to the sides, giving me and Riddle ample space to fight. I could just feel that this was the end. Someone was going to die. I was worried my mum's protection was gone – it'd worked before, but it could have run out. It was entirely possible. My eyes were darting around wildly, trying to get a sense of any more danger from the crowd around us, but Riddle's eyes were firmly on me.

"'You've managed to escape me yet again,' Riddle continued, circling me menacingly. 'How... lucky you have been these many years... your luck ends now, Potter. I feel that I am now strong enough to get through your darling mother's protection. It has been weakened by my many attempts to kill you, and now that my magic has nearly fully returned, it is time to finish what I had started so long ago.'

"Then he began to yell out something, and I don't know what happened to me... I just... I just stuck my wand out and shouted something of my own. It was instinct – like my body was acting of its own accord... he yelled '_Avada Kedavra'_ and I replied '_Expelliarmus_' and... and I suppose Mum's protection hadn't completely vanished, because when those two spells collided in mid-air, Riddle's spell ricocheted back at him and he... he was gone."

"Like that?" Ron asked. "He was killed just like that?"

Harry nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah."

"And..." Hermione began, trying to make sense of what Harry had told them. "And what happened after that?"

"It was silent for a moment. Then, the peacekeepers resumed their fighting. The peacekeeper that was in the room when I woke up had been right – the gaming officials were not loyal to Riddle at all, whereas the peacekeepers all worshipped him. But because the peacekeepers were outnumbered, they were taken care of quickly. The ones that hadn't been killed were arrested and taken to Riddle's dungeons. Then, the three head gaming officials tried to bring order back. They got up onto the steps of Government House and ordered everyone to calm down. Things were going to change, they said. For the time being, one of them would be the leader, but in a week or so, when things were cleared up, they would hold an election. Anyone from any district could volunteer to be a candidate, they'd narrow down the nominees, and everyone from every district will be allowed to vote.

"Then they asked me to come up and say something. I didn't really know what they wanted me to do, but I obeyed them and got up. All I said was, 'I'm going to go get my friends' and went back into the house. With the help of some other gaming officials, I found the hovercraft and then, found you guys.

"And, well, here we are."

Ron and Hermione let out deep breaths once Harry said those words. So much had happened in the space of one and a half days. It was a lot to take in.

Then, Hermione managed to find her voice. "So... it's over?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's over."

"Not yet," Ron intervened, and Hermione glanced up at him, watching as he grinned at Harry. "You still owe me a game of chess."

Harry groaned and fell back against the pillows of the bed he'd been sitting on. Ron and Hermione laughed.

_A/N So, there you have it. The long, _long_ explanation. I think this is the longest chapter of the whole story! I'm pretty sure Harry covered everything. My beta and I read through it several times to make sure we didn't miss anything. Hopefully everything makes sense!_

_We've got just one more chapter left!_

_Have an absolutely merry-dairy holiday season! :) (It'd be nice if you left me a review, as a present. ;) )_


	26. A New World

**The Cruel Irony**

_Chapter 26: A New World_

The sky was cloudless and the sun shone down brilliantly. Steam billowed from the train as it raced along the tracks towards a small platform. A large crowd was crammed onto it, waiting impatiently for the train as it pulled in. As the doors opened, sound from outside filled the carriages – sounds of whistling, chattering and wheels of trunks rolling along the ground.

Into the second carriage came in a young man with scruffy black hair and green eyes covered by spectacles. He ignored the hushed whispers of those around him as he approached a seated young brunette.

"Hey," he said with a smile once he reached her.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up and giving him a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too," Harry said, hugging her back.

She pulled away from him and studied him from head to toe. "You look... different."

"It's amazing what a shower and a change of clothes can do to an appearance," Harry grinned. He was donned in a pair of jeans and a plain blue jumper, which appeared normal to everyone except Hermione, who had gotten so used to seeing him in his black jumpsuit that it was difficult to see him in anything else.

They sat down, Harry opposite her. "I can't believe it's been three weeks since we last saw each other," Hermione said, shaking her head as the train screeched and began to move once more.

"Yeah, feels like longer, doesn't it?" Harry asked.

"So much has happened!" Hermione agreed, then looked around the carriage. "A lot of people want to travel on these trains, don't they?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Did you see how crowded the platform was? I can't wait until they build a proper station for District 7."

"Yes, all the platforms are like that," Hermione said, who'd boarded the train in District 3 and had been on it for a few hours. "They'll build proper stations for these passenger trains soon."

Harry nodded and leaned back against his seat. Hermione sighed and did the same, watching the scenery as the train rushed past it. So much had happened in the past three weeks, that was certain. Not long after Harry had finished his story and he and Ron had started their game of chess, all their mentors, escorts and stylists had rushed in, congratulating them and asking them if they were all right. Hermione had been so glad to see Raeden and Colin and Lysabelle and Eyvy. Raeden was, as usual, beaming, and the others also had wide smiles. Colin and Lysabelle had both applauded her for her wit in the games.

Before the boys could continue their game, the head officials had come in, informing Hermione and Ron that the Hunger Games still needed a winner, and there could only be one. After a long discussion, Hermione and Harry managed to convince Ron that he should be the victor and take all the money. Hermione had argued that technically, because of Bogs' help, she'd cheated and didn't deserve to win. Ron had reluctantly given in and was awarded the 100 Galleon prize money and the title of Hunger Games victor. The last one.

All three of them had become famous. After the ceremony where Ron was crowned victor, the three of them had returned to their respective homes, promising to visit each other in a few weeks once their districts were up and running again. Hermione came back to cheering crowds and parents even more prouder than they'd been before she'd left. Harry was renowned as the one who'd saved them all, and Ron was, of course, the charismatic victor. They spent the next few weeks helping their districts get back on their feet and getting used to their new way of life. The new government placed a few more trains on the tracks and Panem now had a rail network for its citizens. Hermione and Harry were now on it, on their way to District 10 to see Ron and meet his family.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing Ron again. She placed her elbow against the window sill and rested her chin on her hand, trying to hide her smile from Harry. She hadn't seen him in too long. His train home had left before hers and they'd said goodbye to each other at the Capitol train station rather affectionately. After Ron managed to pull away from her and give Harry a high five, he'd jumped on board, quickly going over to a window, opening it and poking his head through it. His eyes were on hers until the train turned around a corner and he was gone. The last things she'd seen of him were his fierce blue eyes and bright, adoring smile.

"He's meeting us at the platform, isn't he?" Hermione asked Harry.

"He sent a letter to me at the last minute saying he had to go into town, but that his sister was going to meet us. Git couldn't go into town another day, could he?" Harry asked, grinning.

Hermione gave a small laugh. "Oh, well. We'll see him soon. And I'm sure Ginny could give us a good tour of the district while we wait."

"She'd do a better job of it than Ron, that's for sure."

They both laughed and Hermione realised just how nice it was to see Harry again. "How've you been, Harry?" she asked.

"Good," Harry said, smiling. "My aunt and uncle have a bit more respect for me, but I'm looking forward to leaving them soon."

"Where will you go?"Hermione asked, lips curving at the twinkle in his eye.

"I don't know yet," Harry replied truthfully. "All I know is that I'm not staying with them."

Hermione then remembered something that she'd been meaning to do when she next saw Harry. "Harry?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About what happened before you... you nearly... well, when you did die."

Harry swallowed and said a quiet, "Oh." Then, after a moment, he said, "It's all right. You don't need to apologise. I... I shouldn't have said some of the things I said."

"But you were absolutely right!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry shrugged modestly, but said to her quite sincerely, "Thanks." Things were quiet for a moment before Harry continued. "I shouldn't have accused you of not caring. That was... I'd taken it too far."

"I guess we're even, then?" Hermione asked. Harry gave a small chuckle of relief and nodded, and everything was fine between them.

After a few hours, the train pulled into a railway station that appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Hermione glanced out the window. Grassy plains stretched out around them, as far as the eye could see. In the distance, she could see a house or two, scattered around in odd places. She then remembered what Ron had told her – everyone owned a large property in which they could grow animals. Houses were far apart from each other. Hermione now understood why this district was so big.

"Does this look similar to District 7?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Not really. District 7 is more like a forest, with little sorts of cabins in small clusters in certain areas. Sort of like several villages or streets in the woods."

"Next time, we'll have to visit your home, then," Hermione said to him.

"I'd have thought you'd have enough of forests," Harry said.

Hermione laughed. "Not yet."

She and Harry stood up and stretched.

"Besides," Hermione continued. "I plan on visiting every district as soon as possible, to get a good grasp of what things are like everywhere."

"That sounds like you," Harry said as he lifted up his suitcase. Hermione pulled her bag over her shoulder and they ventured out of the train and into District 10 together.

It was similar to what Hermione imagined it would look like, but still an amazing sight. It was quite warm and she fanned herself with one hand as Harry stood up on tip-toes to look around for Ron's little sister.

"Is that her?" Harry asked, gesturing to a girl looking around the platform anxiously.

Hermione squinted a little and studied the girl. She had long red hair, a few strands of which had been pulled back so as not to get into her face. This hair was straight and darker than Ron's. She had the freckles, though, and a long nose too.

"I think so," Hermione replied, giving her a wave. The girl gasped and quickly made her way over to them. "Hello!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm Hermione Granger. Are you Ginny Weasley?"

"That's me," Ginny said, smiling at her and Harry. "Hi!"

Harry gave her a small smile. "Nice to meet you," he said.

"Come on, now," she said, gesturing with her head for them to follow her out of the station. Outside the station were a few signs, all pointing in different directions along different routes.

"I'm sorry my git of a brother couldn't be here today," Ginny said. "I guess you know he's not always the most sensitive of people."

Harry gave a small chuckle and Hermione smiled too. "Where is he?" she asked.

"He went out to buy a broom in town," Ginny said flippantly. "They go on sale today; he's been talking about it since he came home—when he's not talking about you two, of course. I reckon I know everything about you both."

"He's probably spoken more of Hermione than me, though, right?" Harry asked with a grin on his face.

"Yeah," Ginny said, looking at Hermione. "He's mad for you, you know that?"

Hermione blushed furiously, a little surprised at Ginny's boldness. It must be a Weasley trademark. She chose to ignore Ginny's remark. "Maybe we could go into town, then?" she suggested. "Try and find him?"

"Like finding a needle in a haystack," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Even though he's tall and has that beacon-like red hair, there're too many people in town. Especially today – everyone's eager to get their hands on a broom. I asked him to get one for me, but it turns out they've restricted it to one broom per customer."

"And you chose to come greet us instead of going with your brother?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Ginny grinned at her and Harry. "I'm the nice one," she simply said. "But, Mum told me one of us had to go and because Ron's famous now that he's 'brought us glory and helped save the nation,' she let him go and told me to come."

"I'm sorry about that," Hermione said to her.

Ginny gave a small scoff. "Don't be. I've been looking forward to meeting you two, actually. It's about time I did – you guys saved my home and my brother... thanks for that."

Hermione smiled at her and Harry said, "No need to thank us. Really."

As they walked along a gravelly trail, further away from the station and town, Hermione observed the district. Right next to the road, a fence being the only thing preventing them from escaping, were cows, horses and sheep, all belonging to different owners, whose homes were in the middle of these large fields. The houses all looked old and poor, and Hermione could only hope that the huge differences between districts would be fixed now that things were changing.

They walked through a small courtyard with a few stores along the road. Ginny explained to them this was where most kids met up to play, and that there had been many Quidditch matches held in this very spot.

"It's for those who live a long way away from town. Here we have just a few general-needs stores. Food, water, the essentials. Because not too many people come here it's not very crowded, and so it's a great place to meet up in. Come along, our home's not too far away."

A light breeze had picked up, cooling them down. Hermione sighed, glad of the opportunity to be outside. This district was so quiet and peaceful – it'd be such a nice place to read in...

"Ron mentioned that he had a few more brothers," Harry said to Ginny. "Why couldn't they come meet us?"

"Not pleased to see me?" Ginny asked.

Though Ginny was smiling, Harry hastily tried to reassure her that was not the case. "I was just wondering where they are," he said.

"Well, the two oldest ones, Bill and Charlie, have moved out. Percy's gone to the Capitol. He's running for the election." Hermione and Harry nodded, having been informed of this in Ron's letters. "And Fred and George only do favours if there's something in it for them."

"They're home though, right?"

"Yeah, you'll be meeting them. Just... be careful. They like their pranks." Ginny warned them. "They're brilliant, but you can never be too careful with them."

"We'll keep an eye out," Harry said, sounding excited about the prospect of meeting them. Hermione was a little nervous, but looking forward to it all the same.

Finally, they arrived at the Weasleys' residence. Ginny opened a gate and allowed them through. Closing it, she then led them along a smaller, narrower trail towards the house. Beside them were mooing cows and Hermione watched them in awe.

They finally reached the front of the house. Ginny paused and said to them in a low voice, "Just warning you, in a moment, Mum will come out."

Before Hermione or Harry could ask her to elaborate, the door flew open and out came a plump, middle-aged woman with short, curly red hair. She raced towards Harry and Hermione and hugged them tightly.

"Welcome!" she exclaimed, then pulled away. "Thank you so much for all that you've done! Oh!" she fanned her face for a moment. "Come in, come in! I've prepared some food for you. You must be starving. Come in, come along!"

Ginny raised her eyebrows at them in an 'I told you so' manner and followed behind them as they walked into the five-storey home. Hermione looked around at her surroundings. The house was cluttered, but homely. The ground floor seemed to be made up of a living room, kitchen and a bathroom. There was a lovely fireplace in the living room and the couch in front of it seemed to be calling out to Hermione. This would be an awfully nice room to sit and read in during winter. A chess board was set up in the corner of the room and Hermione smiled, knowing that Ron would have spent many evenings playing with his siblings, perfecting his skills.

"Now, now," Mrs. Weasley said to them, gesturing for them to come into the kitchen. "Here is some food for you, but we'll all be having lunch once Ron returns from town. Hopefully he won't be too long."

Hermione and Harry picked up some pieces of fruit and began to eat them. Hermione sat down on a chair and frowned as she realised a large bubble was rising up beside her. Suddenly, the bubble popped in her face, a few suds clinging onto her skin. A few more bubbles began to rise up too and she gasped, standing up quickly.

Then she heard a laugh and whirled around, looking at the entrance to the kitchen. There stood a young man with short red hair, a short nose and brown eyes. He wasn't as thin and lanky as Ron, or as tall, but was still fit and taller than average.

"Good one, Fred," he called out to someone behind him and in a moment, his twin appeared right beside him.

"Why, thank you, George," Fred replied, grinning.

"Oh, honestly, boys," Mrs. Weasley said, waving a dishcloth at them. "Preying on our visitors the moment they walk in the door!"

"It's all right, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, wiping her face and removing the soapy remnants of the bubbles. "Is there any seat that isn't affected by this prank?"

Fred and George mischievously shook their heads.

"We've been experimenting—" began George.

"With magical pranks," finished Fred.

"It's wicked!" they said together.

"And you are only able to use magic thanks to Harry and Hermione, so you'd better treat them with respect!" Mrs. Weasley scolded them, waving her wand at a pot on the stove, causing it to bubble. "Oh," she said softly, then looked at Hermione and Harry. "It's still quite odd, using magic and having it work." After a pause, she said a quiet, "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank us," Harry said bashfully, taking a bite of his apple. Hermione could tell he was quite uncomfortable with the attention. She decided to change the subject.

"Thank you for letting us visit your home, Mrs. Weasley," she said.

"Yeah," Harry chimed in, thankful for Hermione's help. "Ron told me I could stay for a few days, is that still all right?"

"Oh, of course, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said. "You can stay as long as you want. And, Hermione, you're welcome to stay, too, of course."

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Weasley, but I'm going to be catching a train home this evening," Hermione replied.

"You are?" asked a slightly disappointed voice out in the living room. Hermione's heart jumped into her throat as she realised who it was.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed with a grin on his face, flying out into the hallway and giving his mate a high five. The clap echoed through the house.

Hermione was a little more graceful than Harry in approaching Ron, which allowed her to see how Ron's face changed upon seeing her. As she walked through the doorway, she saw Ron turn his head towards her and his eyes widen a little. He breathed in quite suddenly and sharply, as if he had forgotten how to breathe for a moment. His lips curved up slightly in a small, dreamy smile and Hermione felt like the most cherished woman in the world.

Aware that Harry, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fred and George were all watching, she took a precarious step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. She immediately felt Ron do the same.

"Hey," he said into her hair.

"Hi," she replied, smiling into his shoulder. She breathed in quickly and pulled away from him, keeping the smile on her face.

"You're not staying?" asked Ron, disappointment evident in the expression on his face and the tone of his voice.

"No," Hermione replied, albeit regretfully.

"Why?" he whined. Everyone had gone back to their business, only Harry staying behind.

"My parents still need me in District 3," Hermione said honestly. "Things haven't completely settled yet. There's still so much left to do."

"It's crazy, what's been happening these last few weeks, huh?" Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry chimed in. "But it's good."

"How long you staying for, then?" Ron asked him.

"Few days," Harry repeated.

"How long is a few days?"

"However long you want it to be," Harry said. "I'm not expected in District 7. I don't have anywhere to go. I could stay here forever if you want."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "If you told Ron's mum you're only going to be here a few days, then you'll have to give her a definitive date for when you leave. You can't just show up and stay here forever."

"I don't know," Ron said, a grin on his face. "All Mum's talked about is Harry and how he's the saviour. If you told her you wanted to move in she'd throw a party."

"I'll ask her if I can stay for ten days," Harry said. "Then we'll see what happens after that."

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley poked her head through the doorway. "Come on, you lot. Have some lunch! Ron, could you go up and get Ginny, Fred and George?"

Ron walked up to the staircase and shouted "GIN! FRED! GEORGE! LUNCH!" at the top of his lungs, then turned back around and walked into the kitchen. Harry and Hermione smiled. It was good to see their friend again.

During lunch, they all conversed merrily about what life was now like for them. Mrs. Weasley didn't seem at all fussed about Harry staying with them for ten days, and was actually rather pleased at the prospect. She already doted on Harry as if he were her own son, and Hermione thought that Ron was right – Harry would be able to move in here quite easily if he asked.

After lunch, everyone broke apart and went their separate ways. Ron and Harry had decided to have a game of chess and Hermione wanted to have a look around the house. She found herself in the shed, looking at new, but empty, boxes, which had previously held wands. Hermione smiled; things really were changing in this world.

"Hey," someone behind her said.

Hermione whirled around, smiling. "Hi," she said breathlessly, pleased to see Ron. "How'd the game go?"

"I won," Ron said, and, with a smirk on his face, added, "obviously."

"Obviously," Hermione echoed teasingly.

There was a pause as they stared at each other, alone for the first time in several weeks. Finally, Ron broke the silence. "Am I going to get a proper greeting?" he asked.

Hermione put on a mock-frown. "The hug wasn't good enough? Honestly, Ron, I think that's a bit ungrateful of you."

Ron took a step forward towards her. "Sorry," he merely said, and Hermione could tell he wasn't sorry at all.

Hermione took a step closer to him murmuring, "You're forgiven," as she did so, and promptly let her lips land on his as her arms coiled around his neck, pulling him closer. Ron eagerly responded, sighing against her lips, and Hermione wondered how she could have gone so long without this.

But eventually they had to pull apart. Ron, resting his forehead against hers, breathed out a "Hi."

Hermione smiled, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and said "Hi," in return.

Ron took in another deep breath, shakily let it out, and then said, "Stay with me."

Hermione pulled away from him slightly. "I can't," she said. "My parents need me still."

"Yeah, I know," he said, sighing. "I can't believe you're going to be leaving tonight. You only just got here."

"I have to catch the train tonight if I want to get home by tomorrow morning." Hermione said to him. "My parents are expecting me, and I have to help them organise their offices."

Ron nodded, though he still looked quite disappointed. "So you're not planning on trying to move in here like Harry, right?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No," she said honestly. "Not yet."

Ron raised his eyebrows at her hopefully. "Not yet?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe later on. We'll see."

Ron grinned. "Wicked," he said.

Hermione sighed, unable to believe that this was what her life was like. Everything was... right. She had Ron, she had Harry. Panem was magical and safe and presenting her with the opportunity to be whoever she wanted to be, do whatever she wanted to do. What that was, Hermione wasn't sure yet, but the beauty was that she had plenty of time to decide. She had time to make a path for herself.

And she had a very strong feeling that her path was going to join Ron's eventually.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Hermione asked him. "How did you know I was here?"

"I was going to get something from here," Ron said, "and then I was going to find you. Luckily, I found both things I was looking for in one spot."

"What was the other thing?" Hermione asked.

Ron smiled at her mischievously and pulled away from her, walking around her to retrieve something from a shelf. He turned around to face her and revealed a new, gleaming broom.

"Wow," she said, impressed. "So, how does flying feel?"

"I wouldn't know," Ron said. "I haven't flown it yet."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Really? You were so excited about it, I'm surprised you haven't yet."

"Well, I've been hoping my first fly will be special," Ron began. "And... there's one thing that'll make it really special."

Hermione smiled. "Which is...?"

"You," Ron said simply, then took a step closer to her. "You want to go and fly with me?"

Hermione looked at his left hand, holding the broom tightly, and then at his right hand, which was extended towards her. Then, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze, and answered, "Yes."

She placed her hand in his and they walked out of the shed, into the new world, together.

_A/N Finis!_

_Wow. It's finished. I got the idea for this in February/March, so this story has pretty much taken up all of 2012. It's amazing to think that it's done._

_I'd like to thank J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins, whose ingenious minds came up with two fantastic stories that I just intertwined together. As we all know, Harry Potter and The Hunger Games belong to them, respectively._

_Sophie, my wonderful beta, has been with me through it all. She's been busy with her own life, yet took time out to focus on my work. She listened patiently (most of the time :P) as I discussed the story with her, pointing out plot holes and swapping ideas with me. She was also my coach, helping me improve my writing and encouraging me to keep going when I wanted to throw the towel in and play tetris instead of write. The fact that she not only hates Ron/Hermione (shocking, I know!) but romance in general just makes her helping me out that much more significant. Thanks, Sophie!_

_Finally, I'd like to thank _you_. Even if you've never reviewed, never favourited, never put this story on alert, you are reading this note, and that means enough. However, if you're one of the people who _did_ either review, favourite or put this story on alert, I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me. You guys kept me going and helped me improve and really lifted my spirits up. Thank you so much! I'd like to give a special thank you to: _**F Maurice**_ and _**rhmac12**_, who reviewed every single chapter; _**sherychery7**_ and _**Eighteen Inches**_, who reviewed nearly every chapter; and _Sparkling Soul _and _finchelromionelover_, who reviewed at least 10, which I think deserves recognition, too. But thanks to everybody who reviewed! I tried to reply to everyone, but sometimes I may have accidentally missed a few. But, I read every single one and each one means a lot to me._

_I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, whatever you celebrate, and that you have a happy, successful 2013. I'll be back next year with more stories, and I hope that you guys will continue reading my work._

_Thanks for sticking with me, guys!_

_RonaldAndMione_


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